Seeking Redemption
by ougabouga
Summary: The sequel to The Darkness Has Been Breached. Councillor Shepard must now further forge the future she helped create. She comes face to face with a ghost of a deeply shameful event in her past. How she deals with this ghost will have implications far beyond her own personal sphere, but on the galaxy as a whole. Femshep & Liara pairing.
1. Prologue

_This is a sequel to The Darkness Has Been Breached. Thanks to my readers who read/reviewed and encouraged me to write this sequel. As this is a sequel it is recommended you read that story before you read this one. This story will take a different tack; whereas Darkness was told from Liara's point of view, this one will focus on Shepard's perspective. I hope you enjoy this story as you enjoyed the last one. Keep those comments coming !_

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**Seeking Redemption **

**Prologue**

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_Batarian Communications Bunker Zeta. Hill 359. Torfan. 2178._

The air was dense, thickly laced with the smell of blood and sweat, the sound littered with countless explosions and endless gunfire. The sun was setting, bathing the area with an eerily beautiful magenta glow. It would be nightfall very soon, the darkness on Torfan was nearly absolute, even night vision goggles struggled. A communications bunker stood on the ridge of a great, round hill, hundreds of meters high. It held a commanding view of the countryside below. The attack had begun at sunrise and had continued throughout the day, unending. Waves after waves of soldiers crashed against the hill. The facility was defended by turrets and a determined battalion of batarian soldiers. A few scattered boulders, depressions caused by artillery and rocket fire were the only cover to be found. On the northern and southern slopes, valiant soldiers of the Alliance Navy were slowly making their way upward. Behind them were countless bodies of the dead. The bodies already host to thousands of carrion flies, covering the bodies in a thin black cloud.

Lieutenant Cassandra Shepard ducked behind a boulder just as a rocket exploded behind her. The concussion slammed her against the boulder, she hit her head and was vaguely aware of a severed human arm that flew overhead. She cursed and looked behind her. She counted a dozen marines behind her. They were still a hundred meters from the entrance. The way between here and there was treacherous, a no man's land. The approach was guarded by a turret and endless small arms fire peppering them. The turrets rendered air support impossible. The bunker was coordinating batarian resistance and keeping the various pockets of resistance in contact with another. It had to be taken down. Once it was down, the remaining batarian strongholds would be isolated and could be wiped out with ease.

Sergeant Nathan Barnes rushed up from below her, narrowly avoiding small arms fire the soldier landed next to her. A long scar cut an elliptical line across his hardened, black face, a tribute to their long years serving together. His dark eyes seemed to glow in combat, he was a born soldier, one who lived for the sounds and chaos of battle. Just like her. They trusted another implicitly.

"What's up L-T?" He asked her.

"Bravo team. Status report." She ordered over the comms. Bravo team was scaling the southern side of the hill.

"We're pinned down. 150 meters from the secondary entrance. One turret's making it impossible for us. It's shielded. We've taken heavy casualties. Request instructions." The male voice wasn't familiar, one of the newer recruits. That could only mean Lt. Mbeki and the senior NCOs were dead.

"How many are you?" She asked.

"20 ma'am. 5 heavies and 15 infantry. What are your orders?"

"Standby."

She looked below her, her own soldiers were pinned down, firing blindly up the hill, the fire was too intense to risk taking aimed shots. A few she recognized but most were replacements. She'd seen a lot of replacements lately. They had a couple engineers, but most were regular soldiers, she was the only biotic left. Two of her soldiers had rocket launchers. The wind was blowing northerly, up the hill. Bringing with it the putrefying stench of the dead and dying.

"What's your name soldier?" She asked over the comms.

"Corporal Atherton Ma'am." He answered back. Despite his youth and the situation his voice betrayed no panic or alarm.

"Anderson, you and your squad use your smoke grenades and flashbangs. Use your heavies to take out that turret. Fire everything you've got. Once the turret's out, run your ass up the hill to that entrance."

"My name's not..."

"I don't give two shits about your name Corporal! I gave you an order. Follow it or when I'm done with you you'll wish you were a fucking Quad-F! Understood?"

"Yes ma'am."

She looked to Barnes and nodded to him.

"Ready your flashbangs and smokes! All of them! We're making a run for it!" Shepard ordered. "Boucher and... Carlsson? Get your rocket launchers ready. Fire everything at that turret. Once the grenades go off, run and don't fucking stop until you're at the entrance. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am." A weary voice answered. She knew this would be costly, but it didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was the final result. They had to capture this outpost, the cost was irrelevant. These men and women knew the risks. Soldiers die. It's part of the job description, something civvies couldn't understand.

"Go!" She ordered. She threw a smoke grenade of her own. Two dozen other grenades flew overhead. It took two seconds before they heard the concussion of the grenades exploding. She waited two more seconds for the smoke to saturate more before she leapt over the boulder. The smoke was thick and miasmic, it was impossible to see more than a dozen meters ahead.

"Let's go!" She yelled. "Fire those rockets."

Carlsson and Boucher stood over their cover and fired their rockets at the turret. The other soldiers followed Shepard and Barnes, running up the hill with all speed. Rockets slammed into the tower. A soldier behind her threw a frag grenade at it. The batarian soldiers, entrenched on the upper balcony of the facility, fired blindly into the fog. Their bullets and grenades missed some of the soldiers, but more than enough found contact with rushing soldiers, ending their singular advance. Shepard ran madly, ignoring everything around her, the trail of bullets that impacted to her left, the grenade that exploded to her right, heading straight for the entrance to the facility, though she couldn't see it. She emerged from the smoke, a pair of thick blast doors only 20 meters away. A couple of batarians behind a kinetic barrier guarding the doors. She charged them, her biotics blazing a trail behind her. She crashed through the barrier, knocking both batarians down. She whipped them, slamming the butt of her Lancer assault rifle repeatedly into their defenceless faces. Their foreheads caved in under her merciless assault, she heard the crack of bone, the squirting of black blood. She sighed with satisfaction, killing batarians never got old. She thought of Aisha, her parents, her friends from Hopeville and everyone else from Mindoir. They could never be fully avenged, but there was no harm in trying.

She looked behind her. Barnes had caught up along with two other soldiers, replacements, both of them. They took shelter by the blast door. The turret was heavily damaged but still operational, but it couldn't rotate a full 360 degrees, so they were safe. They'd have to deactivate it from the inside.

"Did anyone else make it?" Shepard asked them. The replacements shook their heads.

"Don't worry about it. What matters is we made it. Barnes, run a bypass to get us in." Barnes went as ordered.

"Bravo Team! Status report!"

"This is Atherton." The corporal replied over the comms, putting extra emphasis on his name. "Me and four other soldiers made it to the entrance. We're running a bypass. What are your orders?"

"Proceed in, head towards the command centre. We'll meet you there. Expect heavy resistance."

"What if they surrender?"

Shepard frowned. That was a stupid question. Batarians never surrendered. Even if they did... no. They didn't get off that easy. They didn't deserve to.

"No prisoners!" She screamed, losing her cool. She kicked the dead batarian at her feet. Blood shot out of an empty eyelid, squirting onto her combat boots.

"But..."

"I said no fucking prisoners Anderson! If you keep questioning my orders I'm gonna pay a Vorcha to give you a blowjob, understood?"

"Yes ma'am." The voice was resigned but resentful.

"Alpha Team to base." Shepard radioed to HQ, a few miles away.

"Go ahead Alpha Team."

"Alpha and Bravo Teams have reached the bunker. We're about to head inside. Talk to you on the flip side."

"Confirmed Lieutenant. Happy Hunting."

Barnes finished with the bypass. Shepard pointed to the replacements and ordered them to go on the left. She and Barne took positions on the right.

"Follow my lead. Hug the walls and check those corners. Remember your training. You'll be fine." She said calmly to the replacements. She nodded to Barnes who opened the door. The doors slowly opened, the sound of the grinding metal making it's slow reveal all the more agonizing. The doors opened halfway when a grenade popped through the opening.

"Duck!" She yelled. She and Barnes dove away. Using her biotics she threw it away from harm, down the hill. It exploded in midair, the shrapnel raining heavily upon them, damaging their shields. She looked over to her left. The two privates stood up, a few dents in their armour but none the worse for wear. Before eezo, the explosion would've killed or maimed all of them. Shielding technology made soldiers more durable.

"Suppressing fire!" Shepard ordered, rushing to her feet. She slammed her back against the door post and fired a burst from her rifle. The room was a large hangar for ground assault vehicles. Luckily the hangar was empty, they'd dealt with the vehicles hours earlier. The last of the Makos had come in real handy. A shame none of them had survived the engagement, it would've made the rush uphill a lot easier.

On either side of the hangar were two raised walkways. Six Batarians raining fire down upon them from well-covered positions. There was little to no cover asides from the repair pit, 15 meters in front of them. Rushing in wouldn't get the job done, unless... She looked at the private closest to her.

"Private. Come here!" He rushed over, firing his rifle into the hangar. He barely made it past the gap. Shepard grabbed his Omni-Tool. She fiddled with the settings, then noted his name tag on his left breast.

"Private Bjornstad, I'm boosting the power output of your Omni-Tool. It'll overload in two minutes if you don't readjust but this will boost your shields. I want you to run into the repair pit over there. Just run, once you're there, keep down, fire if you can. That will distract them, while you're running and they're shooting at you we'll take them out. Understood?"

The private nodded meekly, blue weary eyes looking at her. "So, I'm the bait?" His voice was quiet, resigned. Despite that she heard him clearly over the constant gunfire.

"Private you're gonna make it!" She said firmly, but avoided his eyes. She turned to Barnes. He nodded and reached behind himself, replacing his shotgun with a grenade launcher. She looked around them and held up her hand. She counted off with her fingers, 5...4...3...2...1. Bjornstad ran like a bat out of hell.

The Batarians emerged from cover and fired on him. His shields held. Barnes, Shepard and the other private turned around the corner and fired. Barnes' first shot took out two Batarians on his side. Shepard felled one with her assault rifle. They turned to the other side. The private was firing wildly, his shots missing. A batarian dropped a grenade in front of Bjornstad. He didn't see it until it was too late, it exploded underneath his feet. The concussion threw him sideways and dazed him, far from cover, he crawled, scrambling desperately to reach the safety of the repair pit. But he helpless as bullets tore into him, overwhelming his shields and then his armour. Shepard and Barnes fired another burst, killing the last three batarians but for Bjornstad it was too late. They rushed into the room. Shepard and Barnes ignored Bjornstad's body, heading straight ahead for the doorway that led further into the facility.

"Bravo Team. What's your status?" Shepard asked.

"We're inside, heading..." There was a hiss of static.

"They're jamming comms." Barnes said.

"Right, we keep heading towards the command centre." Shepard answered. If this bunker was like the others, the command centre was about 50 meters away, on the third floor and southwesterly. Bravo Team's insertion point was closer to command centre but also to the living quarters, they were probably drawing most of the fire. A useful diversion.

They ascended up the first stairwell. They hadn't met any other resistance thus far. They heard gunfire and explosions afar. Sounded like a hell of a fight. Maybe Anderson... Atherton would make a good soldier after all.

Atop the first stairwell they hit resistance. Shepard ducked down, narrowly missing bullets heading straight for her head. Four more Batarians ahead of them, laying down heavy fire. She tapped Barnes who fired two shots with his grenade launcher. Each explosion reverberated loudly, shaking the ground underneath them, rattling the foundations, a outpouring of debris from the damaged walls and ceilings, wires, shards, ducts, drywall, mingled in with bloodied, dismembered batarian limbs. She looked behind her, the private was still with them, she and Barnes were fine. They walked up the next flight of stairs. They stopped at the top of the stairs.

"You hear that?" Shepard asked Barnes.

Barnes shook his head. "I don't hear anything."

"Either Bravo Team made it, or they're dead." She said coldly.

"Let's hope it's column A." Barnes said quietly.

"The command centre should be around the left corner, 10 meters. Stay frosty." Shepard answered back. Barnes readied his shotgun, the private behind them readied his assault rifle. They walked cautiously up to the T-junction, listening for any sound. They heard none. Shepard nodded to them and they bound around the corner, their weapons drawn. There was nothing. The hallway was empty. They walked up to the door of the command centre. It was locked. She nodded to Barnes who started a bypass. Shepard looked to the private, for the first time noting the replacement's nametag.

"Aquino. Go to the other end of the hall and look around."

He nodded and did as ordered, cautiously scanning his rifle around each corner. He turned back and shook his head. Shepard nodded. She didn't like the feel of this. Barnes' Omni-Tool beeped as he completed the bypass. Shepard waved Aquino over to them. They placed themselves abreast, weapons at the ready. They boosted their shields.

"On my mark." She said with quiet determination. "3...2...1...Mark!" The doors opened. Shepard, Barnes and Aquino rolled in and pointed their rifles to the vaguely defined mass of people in the corner of their eyes. Shepard almost fired but saw Atherton with three other marines, holding ten batarian prisoners. The prisoners were kneeling on the ground, their arms and legs bound. The humans sheathed their weapons and breathed a sigh of relief.

The command centre was a large, rectangular room. The walls were lined with computer terminals and windows, allowing a good view of the surrounding area. The sun was nearly completely set, small, weak individual lines of magenta sunlight fighting against the encroaching darkness of night.

"Report." Shepard said robotically.

"We rushed our way in ma'am. We lost... too many. We got here a minute ago. The batarians surrendered but they've locked us out of the systems. If we'd been 10 seconds later they would've fried all the systems."

"Dammit Corporal. I said no prisoners! If you make a habit of disobeying my orders I'm going to make a habit of making you suffer, understand?"

"Ma'am, with due respect, we can't deactivate the turrets, the jamming signal or get any intel unless we get them to cooperate." Atherton said. His was young, in the first half of his twenties, had a slim, short build, short brown hair and eyes. His voice was surprisingly firm given how unintimidating it was. He had a career ahead of him, maybe.

"Don't you have any decryption techs with you?" Barnes asked.

"No ma'am. Sergeants Li and Taylor didn't survive the assault." Was that bitterness in his voice?

"Alright, let's see if we can get these Quad-Fs to talk." Shepard said. The batarians were lined up side by side, leaning against the far wall. They were all mid-level officers, bound to have the password. She replaced her assault rifle with her Stiletto pistol. She walked over to the first batarian. He looked up at her, his eyes unreadable except for their cold hostility.

"What's the password?" Shepard asked coldly.

"Go fuck yourself." He spat at her.

"Wrong answer." Shepard said and fired a single shot. The batarian died instantly. His brains splattered onto the batarian next to him. She walked over to him and pointed her pistol at his head. He was shaking his body, trying to remove the blood and gore from it.

"What's the password?" Shepard asked the second batarian.

"The password is password 123." He answered, making no effort to hide his sarcasm. Shepard pointed the pistol downward and fired, the bullet tearing through his groin. The batarian screamed, his legs shook, trying to alleviate the inescapable agony. Shepard pressed the pistol against his forehead, pushing it back until it hit the wall.

"You get one more chance. The password?"

The batarian didn't answer, continuing to scream in agony. She gave him a few seconds before pulling the trigger, ending his agony.

"That was for my mother, Gianna Garabaldi Shepard." Shepard said, her face forming a twisted smile.

"Lieutenant!" Atherton shouted. "You gotta stop!"

"Back down, Corporal." Barnes said sternly. "The only reason you're alive is because of Shepard! If you weren't so insubordinate, more of your team would be alive! These Quad-Fs won't give us the password if we gather round a campfire and start singing kumbaya. She knows what she's doing. This is how you get shit done!"

Shepard was ignorant of the exchange. She turned her attention to the third batarian, looking upon him with fiery, hungry eyes. The other batarians down the line were showing signs of nervousness and fear. She could smell it, almost taste it. She jammed the pistol barrel against his forehead.

"You should know the drill by now four-eyes." She said.

"Piss off, human. I ain't gonna tell you shit!" The third batarian said defiantly.

"We'll see about that." Shepard said. She fired the pistol twice, aiming for his kneecaps. Blood erupted from both wounds, staining the ground below him. He screamed loudly, his cries louder than the previous victim. She stepped on his left leg to get his attention. The pressure multiplied his torment.

"Password?" Shepard asked, her voice was coldly bemused, the password only mattered on an abstract level. All she cared about now were these helpless batarians in front of her. They would pay the price for Mindoir, her family, Aisha, just as she'd made every other batarian pay the price. She doubted the debt would ever be satisfied, but that didn't mean she was going to stop trying.

The batarian breathed heavily, as if the heavy breathing would distract him from the agony. She waited a few more seconds before blowing his brains out. She came to the fourth batarian. He was staring at her with unmasked hatred. She noted the fifth batarian was nervous, whimpering. Maybe he'd be more cooperative, but she couldn't skip the queue. That would be improper.

"Lemme guess," Shepard said to the fourth batarian. "You're not gonna cooperate, are you?"

"You got that right, you human cunt!" He shot at her.

"Maybe your friends will. Let's see about that." Shepard pointed her pistol to her left, aiming for the window. She fired a continuous burst, firing until the pistol overheated and could fire no more. Just as she'd done years ago, firing in futility to the sky above as the batarians fled the scene of their most unforgivable crime. As the steaming pistol trembled in her hand she rammed it against the batarian's face. The overheating pistol melted the batarian's flesh, burning his eyes and plunging deeper, frying his optic and nasal nerves. His screams were as bestial as they were quickly silenced. Hideous smoke arose, the smell a putrid odour that resembled burning rubber. The body went limp after a few seconds. Atherton was overcome by nausea and turned away, violently vomiting. Barnes watched the proceedings with detachment, this was how Shepard got things done. He looked at the replacements in the room, he stared at them hard, his eyes drilling into them the message he'd absorbed through his years as Shepard's most, only, trusted NCO. Only Atherton seemed resistant to the message.

Shepard removed the pistol from the batarian's face as it cooled. What was left of the batarians face resembled a mutated wax sculpture, the intense heat had melted some bone, leaving an oddly coloured depression where his eyes and forehead had once been. Fluid from his cranial cavity was seeping down his exposed face, mingling with coagulating blood. The pistol was smeared with boiled flesh like a fresh coat of paint, bits of oozy, sinewy flesh dripping onto the bloodied floor.

"That was for Aisha." Shepard said with relish. She turned to the fifth batarian. He was whimpering and sobbing. She knelt down and wiped the melted gore from the pistol on his chest. He shook his chest with revulsion, as if some abominable insect was crawling over him.

"Please... If I tell you the password, will you let us live?" He pleaded.

"Sure." Shepard said, almost casually. The batarian said the password. Barnes typed it into the console. There was a cheerful beep as systems opened. Barnes deactivated the jamming and turrets and started fishing through the files for intel.

"Holy shit!" Barnes exclaimed.

"What is it?" Shepard asked.

"We have a readout of every remaining batarian position, effective strength, even what kind of food rations they got. With this intel, those Quad-Fs don't stand a chance."

Shepard activated her comm link.

"Alpha team to base. Come in?"

"Go ahead alpha team."

"We've taken the bunker. Deactivating systems as we speak. We got some good intel too."

"Great job Lieutenant! Sending a relief team up now. Standby... Major Kyle wishes to be debriefed in person. ETA fifteen minutes."

"Roger that." She turned away from the surviving batarian prisoners and faced her men.

"Good job everyone." She began. "I know we lost a lot of men, but the only way to succeed is to press hard and be aggressive. Had we dilly-dallied far more people would've been lost. We secured a key objective. I'm authorizing shore leave for everyone. You guys deserve it. Oh yeah, one more thing."

Shepard turned towards the prisoners and raised her pistol. "This is for my father, Douglas Wilfred Shepard." She shot the prisoner who'd given up the password, one bullet to the head. His body slumped, his blood merging with the pools of his comrades. "This is for my grandmother, Natalia-Maria Garabaldi." She shot the next prisoner in line, one headshot. "This is for my grandfather, Allen O'Malley." The next prisoner was felled with another singular bullet to the head. She looked at the remaining prisoners, her eyes pitiless and aroused, saliva dripping from her mouth. The remaining prisoners were shrivelling wrecks, pleading for mercy.

"This is for everyone else on Mindoir." She killed each of the remaining prisoners, clinically, one each shot to the head. When she was done she sighed. A sigh of happiness, contentment, satisfaction. Atherton stared at her, dismay morphing into fury. Outside the last rays of magenta sunlight were extinguished, plunging the land in obsidian-veiled darkness.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 **

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Cassandra Shepard awoke with a start, bolting upright in the bed. She breathed heavily and looked around her, reorienting herself. Of course. She wasn't on the Collector Base. She was in their bedroom, their quarters on the Destiny Ascension, temporary meeting place of the Citadel Council.

Liara stirred lightly beside her. Whenever she awoke from her nightmares, Liara always woke up with her. A by-product of their joining, their partnership, their marriage. They were almost always in sync with another, often not even needing to speak to understand the other. It was uncanny but not eerie. Joining, bonding, making love with her was an indescribable experience. She hadn't been prepared for how much it would change her life.

On the Normandy she'd quickly developed feelings for Liara. Feelings she realized alarmingly went beyond mere physical attraction, feelings that reminded her of Aisha. She wanted to resist, but she was irresistibly drawn to Liara, like a moth to an inferno. That night before Illos when they'd made love the first time and their minds had joined...The sensations were indescribable. It was an unfathomable level of intimacy. Never again would she indulge herself with commitment free encounters. No, going back to that way of life would be an insult to both of them. Yes, this was love. Unbreakable, inescapable.

"Which one was it this time?" Liara asked quietly. She reached up and caressed Cassandra's long, black silken hair. Civilian life had allowed her to grow her hair long for once. Both of them preferred it long, it looked more natural. Her short hair always looked awkward.

"The one on the Collector Base..." Cassandra answered quietly. "Everyone's dead except me and the human Reaper shows up... and it's got my face." Despite how many times she'd had this particular nightmare, it still shook her. There were a dozen other nightmares that reoccurred to her, all relating to some incident or place in her past. Dying on the Normandy SR-1 was another frequent one. The nightmares came to her at least twice a week. Months of therapy had done little to alleviate their reoccurrences.

She lay down and embraced Liara. They kissed lightly. There were times the only comfort she could find was in Liara's arms. She kissed Liara's neck and throat. Liara moaned lightly. She kissed Liara's body through the silken fabric of nightwear until she came to Liara's burgeoning pregnant belly. She placed her ear against it.

"I can hear her heart beating." Cassandra said quietly. "I bet you little Aisha's sleeping peacefully in there."

"Yes, I'm sure she is." Liara answered back, caressing her hair as she continued to listen to two heartbeats. The pregnancy was seeming to last forever. Liara's only complaint was how she was almost immobile in her advanced state of pregnancy. Her back ached nearly constantly, and she was either bedridden or forced to move around in a hover chair.

Cassandra did everything she could think to comfort her and to cater to her needs. Yesterday she'd attached her keyboard to the hover chair, allowing Liara to play the piano. She was becoming quite a talented player, she'd recently mastered all of Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsodies. She'd made some recordings of her music under a pseudonym and they'd sold fairly well, most critics found her playing quite emotional but lacking in technique which was the opposite of her own evaluation of her skills. Maybe a career as a pianist was ahead of her. Archaeology held little interest for her now, being married to one of the most powerful and recognized people in the galaxy made being an intelligence broker all but impossible, a new career, a new path was needed. Perhaps it lay in music.

"Another ten weeks." Cassandra said quietly.

"Yes." Liara said warmly. "And we'll welcome Aisha T'soni-Shepard to the world."

"I still can't believe it." She said wistfully. "I'm gonna be a mommy!"

"Yes!" Liara answered happily. Cassandra didn't need to look up to know she was smiling. They'd agreed on the compromise, Cassandra would be Madre, Liara mother. Aethyta objected in her usual blunt way but agreed to respect their wishes.

"What time is it?" Cassandra asked.

"It's almost 5:30." Liara answered.

"Almost time to get up anyway." Cassandra said, sliding up the bed and kissing Liara's lips.

"Another big day?" Liara asked.

"Yeah. Today we're formalizing the Krogan's entry to the Council and we're reviewing Spectre candidates. Wrex and I we're going to celebrate over drinks. You want us to pop by?"

"Yes, I'd like that." Liara avowed. She didn't have much company these days. There was Cass, her father and the midwife were the only regular company she received.

Cassandra reluctantly slid out of bed. She walked over the kitchenette and prepared a pot of coffee. Their apartment here on the Ascension was roughly the same size as her cabin on the Normandy, but due to it having more amenities like a kitchenette, it was more cramped. She missed Liara's estate on Elyssia. They'd only spent two weeks there in the 10 months since she'd become Councillor Shepard. She loved the wind, the waves lapping against the shore, bathing in the sun and the warm waters. If she could avoid looking at Thessia's massive silhouette in the sky it was the perfect retreat.

Councillor Tevos was still... angry with her over her failure at Thessia. She hoped it would fade with time. It made Council deliberations difficult, she was frosty, dismissive, even condescending towards her. The other Councillors were sympathetic but didn't want to upset the balance. Changing Councillors so soon after the War would be upsetting, sending the wrong signals, send the galactic stock market tumbling and so on. So, Cassandra did was always did, grinned and bore it for the sake of the greater good.

With the coffee brewing she quickly disrobed, giving Liara a brief show before showering and changing into her robes. They'd been forced upon her, at first she'd disliked the robes but she'd grown to like it. It wasn't as snappy as her old Alliance uniform, but it had its own charms. It was made from fabrics from every Alliance colony, each colour represented a colony's flag. It fit comfortably and was rather warm. It was important symbolically, she'd learned a lot the past few months that symbolism was as important in the public sphere as anything else.

"Do you want me to get you anything, my love?" Cassandra asked Liara, ready to go to work, a full stomach and two cups of coffee in her system.

"No, I'll be okay. The midwife's dropping by today. What time will you and Wrex arrive?"

"Hopefully around 18h00. Call me if you need anything."

"Have a good day, Cass."

"You too, love." They kissed another goodbye, their kiss lingered and reluctantly Cassandra pulled herself away and left for work. It was difficult saying goodbye, even for something as banal as going to work. Liara sighed, it was barely 6 in the morning. Slowly she stood up, ignoring the pain in her back she settled in her hover chair. She helped herself to some breakfast and coffee. After eating she worked on her little secret, a biography of Cassandra Shepard.

Shepard was far from surprised to find Karolina Stravowsky working diligently at her desk. The woman was a workaholic, how she had enough time for her husband was a mystery. She'd been a huge help, the former interim Councillor was staying on as part of her staff, her training, experience, and tireless attention to detail had saved many agreements, averted mistakes and generally making her life as Councillor far more agreeable. With Stravowsky she was free to focus on the big picture, assured that Savowsky would have the finer details covered.

She was a pleasant looking woman in her early forties, her features displayed well her Slavic heritage. She'd grown up a spacer, her parents both career military but she'd enlisted in the civil service and diplomatic core, defying her parents' wishes. She'd built up an impressive resume, having negotiated dozens of treaties and mediated countless disputes. Her work had put her into frequent contact with aliens. Despite this, she had no political clout or ambitions. Thus she was a perfect choice for a temporary human councillor.

"Good morning!" Savowsky greeted her warmly, sipping from a large mug of tea.

"Good morning, doc. What are you working on?"

"Just working on the final touches for the Korgan communiqué for today. If it wasn't for you and Sparatus, the Korgans' would've gotten next to nothing."

"Yeah..." Shepard said nostalgically. "I argued until I was blue in the face. It took some convincing, horse trading and compromising. But we got it done. Reminds me why I accepted this job. It's nice to have something to show for all the bullshit I put up with."

"You're doing an amazing job, Shepard." Stravowsky said with deep sincerity. "You're a quick learner, you haven't said anything stupid and you've done a very good job balancing Alliance interests with those of the galaxy." That was another quality she had, her compassion. She sensed whenever Cassandra was down about something and usually found something to say or do that would cheer her up.

"Thanks." Shepard replied. Stepping into her office she activated her computer terminal. She sighed, reading through a packed schedule and an over filled inbox. Her office was rather Spartan, as she preferred it. An office desk, three chairs. Decorations were even sparser, only a portrait of her official investiture ceremony hung upon the wall. She looked at the model of the Normandy SR-2 resting on her desk and recalled the moments aboard that ship. _This beats fighting Reapers_, she comforted herself and went to work.

* * *

Admiral Hackett arrived two hours later. Shepard greeted him warmly and brought him into her office alongside Stravowsky. They made small talk while an aide served coffee and muffins. Cassandra resisted the muffins. She did her best to maintain her exercise regimen, but on average she worked 12 hours a day, finding a few hours per day to workout was difficult, but she managed to exercise a few days per week. She was still in good shape, she largely resisted the decadence of diplomatic meals, but every so often, she gave in to temptation. Usually it was when Spoo was served, an Asari meal that strangely resembled Swedish Meatballs.

Stravowsky activated her Omni-Tool. "N'yah, what's up doc?" Her VI, Bugs, asked. Cassandra chuckled. She'd never heard of Bugs Bunny until Stravowsky started working with her. Those old vids were a riot, even Liara thought they were funny.

"Begin taking minutes." Savowsky ordered.

"You got it, doc."

"So, who are the human Spectre candidates?" Shepard asked, eager to get down to business.

"We've got it down to two people." Hackett began. "The first is Lt. Cmdr Kara Mueller. Graduated top of her N7 class. Served two years with the STG on an exchange program. Spent a year on Omega, single handily destroying one of the gangs and their red sand smuggling operations. Experience is mostly in covert ops. During the Reaper War she served with the resistance on Earth and gathered a lot of good intel. Led an attack that destroyed one of the harvesting camps. Dozens of citations and commendations. Et-cetera."

"Okay, who's the second one?" Shepard asked.

"You have a bit of history with this one. Lt. Jonathan Atherton."

A tremor passed through Cassandra's body and her face paled. That name. A name like so many others she wanted to forget, a reminder of a shameful past. Some ghosts continued to haunt her. Like the Leviathans she'd awakened to fight the Reapers, she'd been forced to end them when they wished to return to their old ways. She often thought of what it had said to her, about other alien species lurking in some unknowable corner of the galaxy. Had it been lying or truthful?

"What happened to him? How come he's only a Lieutenant after all these years?" Shepard asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Right after Torfan Anderson took her under his wing, she hadn't seen or heard from her old unit since. Like all her other ghosts, he found a way of resurfacing.

"He made a lot of trouble for himself, got demoted a few times. He's the one who told the batarians about your actions on Torfan. He lodged complaint after complaint about the treatment both of you received. He kept wanting you to be prosecuted for war crimes."

"But the brass covered it up, buried him." Cassandra said.

Hackett nodded. "He served in crap assignments, kept working his way out only for him to raise a stink about Torfan and get reassigned. Made a name for himself in the Traverse where he peacefully negotiated the surrender of slavers who had a freighter full of slaves. On a recon mission in the Hawking Eta system, he and his platoon crash landed and were attacked by a Thresher Maw for seven days. He got everyone out alive. During the Reaper War he organized and led the Australian resistance. They held out for the whole war. He got promoted. And then got demoted again when he took part in that damn vid that's making the rounds in all the tin-hat circles."

Cassandra sat back, quietly listening to Hackett's briefing. She knew the doc he was referring to, Shepard: A Fraud. She only knew the summary, it postulated she wasn't the saviour of the galaxy but actually an indoctrinated Reaper agent who saved the galaxy only out of happenstance. The doc's premise deeply offended her, and a lot of other people as well, but she couldn't think about that now.

What was she going to do? Her recommendation would carry a lot of weight. If she ignored Atherton's candidacy, she'd join a long list of senior officers and official's who'd ruined his career. If she vouched for him, she'd leave herself open to charges of duplicity and collusion. Her record on Torfan was sealed, the public knew only the vaguest details. But those with greater security clearance knew everything. The batarians called her simply The Butcher after Torfan and Bahak.

"What do you think?" She asked Hackett.

"Both are good candidates, but I like Atherton. He's been shafted but he's never given up. Show's a lot of determination. If you support him, it may help change his opinion of you."

Cassandra knew then Hackett's real reason for presenting his candidacy. He knew her better than most did. He was giving her a chance to redeem herself, in her own eyes. Maybe if he got to know her now, not as she was, he might forgive her. Still, this was putting her in a conflict of interest and she was unsure how to act.

"Alright. I'll present them to the Council meeting today. Eventually we're going to narrow it down to one candidate each for the humans, asari, salarian and turian. Then we'll whittle it down further. Thanks for dropping by, Admiral. It's always nice to see a friendly face around here."

Hackett rose. They shook hands and Hackett left. Stravowsky remained in her office.

"What do you think, doc?" Cassandra asked.

"I don't know. It might help if I knew what your history was with this Atherton fellow." She replied.

"He served under me at Torfan. A lot of people died under my command, because I... I let my personal feelings get in the way. I was careless for the lives serving under me. And I... also...executed prisoners."

"What?" Stravowsky looked at her, a shocked expression on her face.

"I'm ashamed. Back then I was young, filled with hate and lust for vengeance. I was a different person. I like to tell myself that everything I've accomplished since has atoned for my crimes. But... I can't help but think that good deeds don't always wipe out the bad. No matter what I do, something from my past is always catching up with me."

"You wanted to avenge yourself for Mindoir." Stravowsky stated flatly.

"Yeah, my family, the love I lost." She said quietly, avoiding Stravowsky's gaze.

"Look, Shepard." Stravowsky began. "I don't know what to tell you. I'm not an expert on these things. You're going to personally interview these candidates in a few days. I think you owe it to yourself to talk with this Atherton at the very least. See how he is now, maybe he's changed a lot too."

"Maybe you're right." Cassandra nodded meekly. If she could change so radically, why not him? If he could see the change in her, maybe he would forgive her.

"Right, what's next on the agenda?" Shepard asked her.

"For the next hour we review the Krogan treaty. Then we have a Council meeting for two hours purpose of which will be the Spectre candidates. Brief lunch. Then we have the Korgan ceremony. Then you have a meeting with Commander Bailey of C-Sec regarding the new security arrangements once we're back on the Citadel, followed by a meeting with the Alliance Cultural Empowerment Charity, another meeting with the head of the Future Anterior Supplementary Groundwork Planning Committee..."

* * *

Shepard stood on a raised platform, Councillors Valern, Tevos and Sparatus to her left. Camera drones were active. The chambers we're largely empty except for a single page, security personnel and the two Krogan standing before them; Urdnot Wrex and Bakara. Wrex was wearing his familial armour, though worn it still beheld a certain dignity. Bakara was wearing her veil, coloured a light blue. She did her best to hide her prideful smile. Wrex had come a long way from the disillusioned mercenary she'd first met in the wards of the Citadel.

"...And so, do you, Urdnot Wrex, Clan Leader of all Krogan, do so accept admission into the Citadel Council and the concert of races pursuant to the stipulations of the Krogan-Citadel Treaty enacted on this date?" Valern spoke. He had a flair for diplomatic verbiage. It was disappointingly bland. A momentous moment like this needed cheers and clapping, triumphant music. Instead it was a dull, formal ceremony. The krogan deserved better, though Cassandra doubted whether the Quarians' admission would be any different.

"On behalf of all Krogan, I accept." Wrex said curtly. She felt for him, he had his own bitterness towards the Council. The genophage was difficult to forget, even harder to forgive. He placed his thumbprint on the datapad given to him by the Council page. The thumbprints were a signature, this datapad was co-signed by all the Councillors. Thus it was official, the Krogan were readmitted to the Citadel Council. She nodded discreetly to Wrex. She'd much rather go out for drinks now then face the hours of monotonous meetings ahead of her.

Hours later, Cassandra Shepard did something rather unprofessional. She cut short her last meeting of the day to meet Wrex and Bakara for drinks. She set her Omnni-Tool to chime suddenly and hastily excused herself, saying she'd just been summoned for a sudden Council Meeting. She nearly fled her office, Savowsky frowning at met Wrex and Bakara in the Senior Lounge of the Destiny Ascension. The lounge was previously allotted for command staff. With the Ascension becoming a temporary consular ship, the lounge had been converted for Citadel dignitaries and high ranking diplomatic staff. The lounge was tightly packed as it usually was.

"Shepard!" Wrex shouted, making himself heard over the dim hum of conversation. More than a few heads turned in his direction, and followed the human Councillor.

"Wrex!" Cassandra yelled back.

"Haha! How are you, you little pyjack!" They punched each other's shoulders in greeting. She had to admit, even a little tap from a Krogan packed a considerable punch. They sat down, Wrex waved a waiter over to them. Wrex already had a half-filled bottle of Rnycohl in front of him. Bakara was drinking ice-water. They greeted another warmly. Cassandra ordered Serrice Ice Brandy. It wasn't her preferred drink of choice, but Red Wine and Scotch we're hard to find.

"Can't complain. How about you, Wrex?"

"This is just the deal we need. Ha! I know I complained about only getting 3 planets for now but that was all for show, to let people know we won't be taking handouts. There's some minor gripping from some of the clans, nothing I can't handle. You should see it, Shepard. My people, the Krogan, finally have hope. "

Bakara spoke. "For the longest time our people had only something to die for. Now we have something to live for. You played a large role in this. Thank you."

"You know the Shroud? We'll, we're building a statue of you and Mordin next to it. It's going to have a big memorial wall about everything you and Mordin did to cure the genophage!"

"Thank you." Cassandra replied, genuinely flattered. The waiter arrived with her drink.

"We'll let you know when it's done. We can have a big unveiling ceremony. Don't worry though, we'll have better security!"

Cassandra laughed awkwardly and took a few sips of her drink. She'd forsworn most public events since her assassination attempt. She didn't want to make herself vulnerable. She probably wouldn't escape another brush with death. She owed it to Liara, to their unborn children, to keep herself as safe as possible.

"Listen, Wrex." Cassandra began, eager to change the subject. "This isn't a freebie. You need to pull some weight on your end too. You're just one Krogan..."

"Spare me, Shepard." Wrex began, annoyed. "You're worse than Bakara. I know what I have to do, a line of succession, institutions, ministries, all that government... stuff. I've got a salarian diplomat who's helping formulate all that. He's a feisty little varren, that one. The trick is to do all this in a way that other Krogan don't realize they're taking part in a government. For now we're calling it a mega-crush. "

"Glad to hear it, Wrex. How's Grunt?"

"Ha!" Wrex enthused. "You should see him, Shepard. He's turned Aralahk Company into the biggest, most badass collection of Krogan we've ever seen. He's either breeding or training!"

"Councillor," Bakara began, activating her Omni-Tool. She was eager to lighten the mood. "Would you like to see the latest vids of Mordin and Shepard?"

Cassandra's face lit up. "Yes, I would."

The vid showed two young krogan pups, one male, one female, scarcely two feet tall, running on dusty ground, clumsily chasing after pyjacks. After they pyjacks outran them, Mordin picked up a stone and tried to throw it at them. His throw went backward, hitting Shepard in the face. Both babies began laughing hysterically. They were adorable.

"Yeah, they're cute aren't they?" Wrex said. A rare tone of wistfulness in his voice. "Being a father changes you. I wasn't prepared for it. I'll never do to them what my father did to me. You want to protect them, make the world safe for them. You'll do anything. What I'm doing for the krogan, it's as much for my kids as it's for everyone else."

"I understand you'll be a parent soon?" Bakara asked.

"Yeah, ten more weeks to go." She blushed and tapped her feet on the ground. "I can't wait! I'm so excited!" She stopped herself, suddenly aware of how silly she was acting. She sipped from her drink.

"You know, until I met Liara, I never wanted kids. I never thought I'd settle down, marry someone, all that crap." Cassandra confessed.

"What did you see yourself doing?" Bakara asked.

"I just figured I'd be a soldier, career military. Die in some heroic battle somewhere."

"You're a born soldier, Shepard." Wrex said. "As pure as any krogan I've met. It's in your blood."

"But not anymore." Cassandra said, sadness creeping into her voice. "I owe it to Liara, after all she's been through, after everything she's done for me, to step away from that life. I've played dice with the grim reaper so many times it's only a matter of time before my luck runs out. This way, I get to stretch out my luck more. Maybe I'll even get to die of old age."

Cassandra rubbed her eyes, surprised to find them welling with tears. Nervously she sipped her brandy.

"You've come a long way, Shepard." Wrex said. "There's more than one way to be a soldier. I've found that out first hand. I know you were fighting for us in those Council chambers. You know what? Seeing you up there with the Council, wearing those robes... I'm proud of you."

"Thanks Wrex," Cassandra found herself openly weeping. But she couldn't push the tears down. "I'm proud of you, too."

* * *

Liara was pleasantly surprised when Wrex, Bakara and Cassandra dropped by. They were only moderately drunk. She'd watched the footage of the proceedings on C-Span. The dull proceedings sadly overshadowed the dramatic impact of what had happened. Centuries from now, people would talk of the krogan rejoining the Council. They chatted amicably for close to an hour before the krogans excused themselves, wanting to rest before journeying back to Tuchanka. She gave them a fond farewell. Seeing Wrex again had brought back how much she missed her compatriots from the Normandy. They were scattered across the galaxy now.

Cassandra changed into her sleepwear and slid into bed next to her, turning off the light. They cuddled and kissed for some time. Through the way Cassandra held her, the tension in her hands, the firmness of her kisses, Liara sensed Cassandra was worried about something.

"Something happened today, Liara." She finally admitted. "We went over the list of human Spectre candidates. One of them's someone from my past."

"Who is it?"

"Atherton."

"I see." Liara said cautiously.

"He committed career suicide by trying to bring to light what I did on Torfan. He wouldn't give up though, he's a Lieutenant now though he's been demoted a few times. The brass wanted to bury what I did there, he kept trying to dig it up. I didn't know, love. I had no idea they would ruin someone's career like that."

"But you're not surprised." Liara said. "Torfan made you into a hero. You know the Alliance kept the full details secret. You know better than most how ruthless military bureaucracy can be."

"I know but I had no idea... I'll be meeting him in a couple of days. I'm not looking forward to it. He probably blames me for how his career's turned out, thinks I'm a fraud... But I have to meet him. I hope once he sees me as I am, not as I was, he'll...grant it to me."

"Grant you what?"

"Forgiveness."


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 **

* * *

_"Lieutenant-Commander, just what the hell were you doing down there?" Commander Anderson growled at her. Shepard tensed. She wasn't expecting this. Seeing Anderson after all these years, she was expecting praise and kudos, she was receiving them from everyone else. The air was dry and still, the smell of plastic was heavy in the air. Anderson's office was non-descript, only his commendations hung upon the walls and a picture of earth. He was pacing back and forth. She stared straight ahead, but in the corner of her eyes she could almost see smoke rising from his collar. _

_"I had orders to take the bunker, sir. I carried them out. We took the bunker. Taking out that bunker allowed us to wipe out the rest of them, sir." _

_"That's not what I'm talking about!" Anderson snapped. He paced around the room, his movements were snappy, his posture tense. _

_"This isn't just about Torfan. You have a 85% casualty rate! Is that how you get the job done? " _

_"Sir, the goal is what matters, not the cost."_

_"That's bullshit!" Anderson almost screamed. He stood directly in front of her, his frothing eyes staring right at her. _

_"When you joined the Alliance you took a sacred oath, to lead the men and women under your command. You broke that oath! You threw away those kids' lives as if they were nothing! Look at this!" He handed her a datapad. The datapad was packed to the brim with names, faces, dates. Some names were vaguely familiar, most weren't. _

_"Don't recognize the names, do you? Those are the names of everyone who's died under your command! A good officer gets the job done, but not at the cost of the lives of those under his command! An officer leads his soldiers, but that doesn't mean you lead them to the morgue! A good officer remembers the names of the soldiers serving under him. These names should be burned into your soul! A freighter's entire cargo hold is filled with coffins. Your coffins. Major Kyle's a shell of himself!"_

_Shepard put the datapad down. _

_"Did I give you permission to look away?!" Anderson thundered. Shepard looked back at the datapad. In her mind she started reciting the names. The dates were familiar at least. And soon she recalled some of the faces and the deaths associated with them. Some.  
_

_"As if this wasn't bad enough, you committed war crimes! Executing prisoners! Is that part of the oath you swore?" _

_Shepard said nothing. _

_"I asked you question!" _

_"No, sir." Her voice was scarcely a whisper. _

_"Is part of the oath putting personal revenge above the lives of the men and women under your command? Above the mission?"_

_Shepard said nothing. She did her best to stand straight, but her knees were shaking, there was a thick lump in her throat. _

_"I can't hear you, Lieutenant-Commander." _

_She furtively shook her head. _

_"I still can't hear you!" _

_"No, sir." She managed to whisper, straining her voice to the utmost. _

_"The Alliance is hushing it all up, there's nothing I can do about that. But there is something I can do about you. I'm transferring you under my command. I see a lot of potential in you, Shepard. But you need to change. You need to let go. Those batarians weren't behind what happened on Mindoir. They caught almost everyone years ago. I don't need to tell you that. You think your family would be happy knowing their only child's grown up to be a hateful monster? I'm ashamed of you, child. "_

_Shepard could say nothing and fought hard to stop the tears rolling down her face. Those last five words hit her harder than any gunshot could. She remembered the day he found her, scarred and wounded, firing madly in the air, surrounded by charred rubble. He didn't say a word to her, he just hugged her and told her everything would be okay. She was a child, though she didn't know it. She was still that frightened, angry, heartbroken child. But the time for being a child was past. _

* * *

Cassandra replayed that conversation in her head one more time. She remembered everything about it, the dryness of the air, the inflexion of Anderson's voice, the sounds his footsteps made, the feel of the datapad in her hand. She'd kept that datapad all these years, losing it only when the Collector's ambushed the Normandy. She remembered the names now. All of them. The dates. The places. She couldn't remember all the faces. It was a disservice to their memory that she didn't.

She sat at her desk, her legs fidgeting nervously. Her fingers played with her wedding ring and her bond bracelet, the asari equivalent of the former. She'd met with Kara Mueller first. She was rather introverted, but it was contrasted nicely by her obvious confidence. She was rather young, in her late twenties, but battlefield promotions had been very common during the Reaper War, as in all wars. She was a good Spectre candidate but not exemplary. She'd been distracted during the interview, she'd been distracted ever since Atherton's name had resurfaced. He was due any minute and she hadn't been this nervous in years. Cassandra jumped when Stravowsky opened the door to her office.

"Are you okay?" She asked.

"I'm fine." Cassandra nodded. "He's here, isn't he?"

Stravowsky nodded. "You want me to wait a few minutes before sending him in?"

"Thanks doc, but let's get this over with. Send him in."

A few seconds later, Jonathan Atherton appeared. He was wearing a dress uniform, the boots shining a deep black gloss, his uniform impeccably creased and pressed, his hair perfectly trimmed. He was still short, standing about 5'10 but his frame was wider, not as scrawny as she remembered. He stood at attention and stared at the wall behind her. He was standing, immobile and looming over her as a Colossus of Rhodes. This isn't how she wanted this conversation to begin. She'd agonized over this, ran through dozens of possible scenarios in her mind, how to manage this conversation. She'd talked with Liara and Stravowsky, none of them had been terribly helpful. Now he was standing in front of her, she was clueless.

"At ease." Cassandra said quietly.

"I'm fine." He said quietly. His voice was marked with tension. It seemed like his adam's apple was threatening to pop out of his throat. He was breathing loudly, his chest visibly heaving.

"It's nice to see you, Atherton." She said cautiously.

"Nice to see you finally remembered my name!" He snapped.

Cassandra said nothing for a few moments. A heavy, tense silence hung in the air. Cassandra could almost see it, a black amorphous mass slowly swallowing and enveloping the room.

"So, How do you feel being nominated for a Spectre?" She chided herself for asking such a banal question. But she hoped by asking this she would steer this conversation down a less confrontational path. An icebreaker of sorts.

"Permission to speak freely?"

"I'm not military anymore. Granted"

"You picked me to assuage your conscience. Trying to make yourself feel better. I think you're starting to believe all the bullshit they're saying about you! You... you ruined my life! You ruined my career! You know, whenever I close my eyes I see that batarian who's face you melted. He had a name you know, Keral Bok'aral. He had 3 children, barely pouchlings. And whenever I tried to tell the truth about Torfan, about you committing war crimes, they shut me up, demoted me, giving me every shit assignment in the galaxy and then some!"

"That wasn't me." Cassandra said quietly but firmly. "I didn't pick you to be a Spectre. I had nothing to do with your career."

"You had everything to do with it!" He yelled. "You got whisked away, promoted, Anderson's prized protégé. While I got shafted! No one listened to me. All that bullshit about saving the Council and the Citadel! Defeating the Reapers! That wasn't you, it couldn't have been you! I saw the look in your eyes when you executed those batarians! That was you! You made a deal with Cerberus and got the first Normandy destroyed! That was you! I saw the speech you made when they first made you Councillor. All this fluffy bullshit talk about how you're doing this to save lives and keep people working together. What a bucket of varren piss! You care about nothing except yourself! You're a fraud! I don't know what really happened, but the story everyone believes is just a cover-up! And they just keep hushing everything up! They'll never charge you with what you did in the Bahak system!"

He stopped, sweating heavily, he looked exhausted, pale even. He'd waited a long time to say this to her.

"I'm not the same person. I've changed." Cassandra said quietly but firmly. She wanted to rip him apart. How dare he call her fraud to her face? All the loss, blood, sweat, tears she'd shed fighting the Reapers. How dare he? Yet, she had to let him have his say. He deserved that much at least.

"Bullshit! People don't change!" He shot back. "You ask me what I think about being a potential Spectre? I don't give a shit. People like you and Saren soiled the good name of the Spectres. If you pick me, it's so you can sleep a little better at night. If you don't, you'll just be acting like you always did. I don't give a shit!"

"Dismissed." Cassandra sighed quietly. He hurriedly left her office. Stravowsky appeared instantly after his departure. She closed the door behind her and sat on a chair. She looked upon Cassandra with concern.

"That didn't go very well." Stravowsky said.

"Nope." Cassandra answered. She felt light-headed, distracted. Adrenaline was rushing through her veins like a great flood. She couldn't sit still. She'd wanted to convince him how she'd changed. He hadn't given her a chance. No. His mind was made up. Had been made up a long time ago. Was there anything she could do to convince him?

"You should take the rest of the day off." Stravowsky suggested.

"No." She shook her head. "I still got a lot of work to do."

"Shepard." Stravowsky said reproachfully. "You've worked seven days a week for the past 4 months. I'll clear your schedule."

"It's okay, doc." Cassandra said.

"No. You're taking the rest of the day off." She said firmly, crossing her arms.

Cassandra chuckled. "I'm not winning this fight, am I?"

"Not a chance." Stravowsky smiled.

"Thanks, doc. See you tomorrow."

* * *

She went straight to the gym. She needed to clear her head and work off some steam. The Ascension had ten gyms, each one was constantly busy due to the high number of people aboard. Even though she'd spent ten months here she turned heads wherever she went. She would usually only pay attention if someone would speak to her. Not today. A few waved her over or spoke to her but she ignored them. Changing into her workout clothes she plugged in her personal music player. She started playing Vorchathrone. She didn't normally care much for this style of music, but when the mood was right, they were just the right tonic. Their cover of Don't Fear the Reaper was good but didn't have enough cowbell.

She ran 12 miles on the track. Her body dripping with sweat but she wasn't tired, wasn't spent. Far from it. She was still wired, still had massive amounts of adrenaline pulsating inside her. A portion of this gym was set aside for martial arts training. Training from all Council races was offered here from turian savate to human capoeira and everything in between. On the training mat a krogan was training a turian in tonka smacka, a krogan martial art that specialized in brute force. Donning boxing tape and gloves, she made her way to a boxing ball.

She threw mad, hard punches. Not caring for her stance or stamina. She thought of everything that bothered her as she punched the hanging ball; her past hatred of the batarians, the Council that had for so long ignored her, her killing of the geth and EDI, Atherton's outburst. _Why am I so unhappy? _ She asked herself. By all means she should be happy as clown; the Reapers were gone, she was married to the love of her life, a child on the way, a job she enjoyed despite its challenges, yet her past haunted her and wouldn't let her go. Her nightmares, her doubts. Maybe it was fairer this way, the universe's way of asserting balance, she'd saved all life in the galaxy by defeating the Reapers, and nothing great was ever achieved without great cost. Maybe that cost was living out her life with perpetual malaise gnawing her. Maybe that was a fair price to pay, what was the happiness of one person compared to saving the lives of trillions?

She grunted loudly, throwing one last, hard punch, her biotics flared. The boxing ball tipped, the base tore free of the bolts holding it down and fell with a loud clang. She stared down at the toppled contraption, drops of sweat clogging her vision, breathing heavily. She wiped her face, suddenly aware of the complete silence surrounding her. She looked around and everyone was staring at her, hundreds of eyes fixed on her. Eyes curious, alarmed, worried, amazed. Eyes turian, asari, krogan, human. She cursed and ripped her boxing gloves off, throwing them on the ground. She walked to the locker-room, everyone turning to look at her as she passed by. Finally the gym returned to normalcy behind her.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

* * *

She walked to their apartment in a daze. She only saw straight ahead, her peripheral vision had shut down. Sounds were quieter, her feet hitting the floor had less impact. She needed Liara now. To lay in bed and wrap their arms around another. She wasn't there. She paced around their cabin. She was still wired. She knew she was supposed to be tired but she wasn't. She called Liara on her Omni-Tool.

"Cass, what is it? What's wrong?" Liara answered. How did she know she was in distress?

"I... need to talk. Where are you?"

"I'm in the biotic café on the 24th floor with Aethyta. Do you want us to come to the apartment?"

"No. I'll meet you there."

She rushed over to them when she saw them in the café. To call it a café was an embellishment. It had been one of the Ascension's smaller mess halls, converted into an upscale café by one of the galaxy's most ubiquitous chains in the wake of the Council making the Ascension its temporary home. The Ascension was for the moment not truly combat ready, most of the military personnel had been reassigned, some weapon berths removed to make room to accommodate the extra consular staff. They were halfway through a galactic victory tour. In a few weeks when they'd move back to the rebuilding Citadel, the Ascension would revert to its original function. She and Liara squeezed hands as Cassandra sat down next to her.

"You look like shit, Shep." Aethyta said with customary grace and tact.

"Thanks, dad." Cassandra shot back, making no effort to hide the sarcasm. Aethyta chuckled.

"It didn't go well, did it?" Liara asked.

"No, it went pretty much as I expected." Cassandra sighed. A waiter came but she waved her away. The last thing Cassandra needed was caffeine.

"He didn't listen to a word you had to say, did he?" Aethyta asked. Cassandra shook her head.

"One thing I've learned is that it's hard to change people's minds once it's made up." Aethyta said. "That guy's built his identity on being the one who got shafted by you. He blames you for all his misfortunes. He still thinks you're that cold-blooded bastard from Torfan. For him to accept you as you are, he'd have to change his entire identity, his outlook on life, everything. It's easier to hang onto old grudges and outdated beliefs than to move on. Let me tell you, the most stubborn human is a pansy compared to an old krogan or asari. Trust me, I'm one of them. You think Tevos will ever warm up to you? Don't bet on it. She and some other matriarchs have treated me like shit since I proved them wrong with the Reapers. Before they laughed at my blue ass. Now they want my blue ass to shut up. You think spying on you and Liara is some kind of reward for my prescience and centuries of loyal service? Ha!"

"So, what are you going to do?" Liara asked.

"I don't know. If anything he'd make a better Spectre than Mueller. He's resourceful and determined. Picking Mueller would give me fewer headaches when the Council gets to whittling down the Spectre candidates. If I go against him, he'll just think he was right about me. But if I vouch for him, support him, maybe he'll see he was wrong about me."

"Fat chance." Aethyta said.

"I have to do this." Cassandra said quietly.

"Why? Cass, you don't need to prove yourself to anyone anymore." Liara insisted, squeezing Cassandra's hands for extra emphasis.

"I know... it's different this time. If it was someone who didn't know me it wouldn't matter. But he saw me at my worst. When he tried to bring to light the truth he got shafted for it..."

"Don't waste your time." Aethyta said. "Especially, don't take this the wrong way, but I think you're doing this for yourself more than for him. What you did back on Torfan is massively fucked up, there's no denying it. But I know why you did it and why you felt that way back then. I think most people would, too. I also know you've changed, really, really changed since then. No one's perfect. You want to make up for what you did back then. You know what? I think you have with everything you've done since then. You've saved the galaxy for fuck's sake! And if people like this Aetherton and a handful of batarians can't deal with it, that's their problem, not yours."

Cassandra sat back, absorbing Aethyta's words. There was an uncomfortable ring of truth to her words. Just as how she'd apologized to Tevos those long months ago. But she couldn't cast him adrift. Liara looked at her with those glowing, bewitching blue eyes of hers. They were pleading with her to see reason. But also, was a bit of understanding.

"Your problem, Shep." Aethyta continued. "Is you still feel guilty over what you did. You need to let go. You have a lot to live for. Don't ruin it by wallowing in your past. I've got a list a mile long of terrible things I've done but I don't dwell on them."

Cassandra shook her head. "I can't help but think of Mordin. He felt guilty about the modified genophage. In the end, he did something about it. And now, they're building a statue of him on Tuchanka."

"Cass!" Liara interjected, her face a map of worry and dread. "You can't possibly..."

"No!" Cassandra said firmly. Her green eyes looked straight into hers, calming Liara, assuaging her fears. "I'd never do anything like that. We have so much together. I'd never do anything to jeopardize that."

"Then drop this." Aethyta said firmly. "There's other ways you can help him. Talk to your Admiral Hackett, tell the brass to stop getting on his ass so much. You making him a Spectre isn't going to change his opinion of you. Nothing is."

"I'll think about it." Cassandra said. She looked at Liara. Her mind was already made up. Nothing Liara or Aethyta could say would change it. She could see Liara's was saddened by this. Cassandra felt a sharp, brief pain inside her soul. She had to do this. If this she showed Atherton, she'd feel better about herself and her life, and thus her family's life, would be happier as a result.

* * *

"He is a curious choice, given his history." Valern said. The other councillors sat around their conference table. Each had one aide with them, Cassandra had Stravowsky sitting next to her. Datapads were strewn around the table. They were reviewing Spectre candidates. Currently they were looking at Atherton's candidature. For a Spectre to be approved, there had to be unanimity among them. One turian candidate had already been dismissed.

"I'm forced to agree with my colleague." Sparatus said. "He has a long history of insubordinate behaviour. If he's this disrespectful of your own stature, there's no reason to believe he'll show this Council any greater deference. His participation in that scandalous vid is another checkmark. Spectre's embody the authority of the Council. We cannot have a Spectre openly disdainful of one of its members. I find it puzzling that he was even considered, much less put on a shortlist. Even more puzzling why you'd even consider promoting his candidacy. There is only one human Spectre as of now, and we all know this was a purely political appointment made by Udina to prepare for his ill-fated coup attempt. At the risk of overstepping my bounds, humanity deserves better and can do better . Your other human is a much stronger candidate. If you insist on bringing his name forward, I will not support it."

"Nor will I." Valern added.

"I will." Tevos said suddenly. The other Councilors looked at her, a shocked look on their faces. None was more surprised than Cassandra herself. Stravowsky tapped Cassandra's hand. Cassandra turned to look at her, Stravowsky lightly shook her head, a worried look on her face. Cassandra nodded subtly, why would Tevos suddenly come out of the blue to support her?

"Why?" Valern asked, making no effort to hide his bafflement.

"I think his service record is exemplary, evidence of adaptability, determination, skill. He does embody much of what Spectres are meant to represent. Perhaps he can grow into the role." Tevos explained, though it seemed she was reaching for something just out of her grasp.

"Much but not enough." Sparatus said firmly.

"We've witnessed you make stronger arguments for weaker causes." Valern added.

"It is obvious there is no consensus on this issue, nor is there the possibility for one. Are we agreed?" Sparatus asked the other Councillors. They all assented, some more reluctantly than others.

"Therefore, under the rules of procedure, Lieutenant Jonathan Atherton's candidacy is hereby rejected. Let us move onto the next item on the agenda. Security meeting from Major Kirrahee."

Thus ended Atherton's candidacy as a Spectre, a discussion that had barely lasted half an hour. Cassandra had no time to reflect on this setback. The lights dimmed and the QEC device was activated. The salarian captain's image appeared before them.

"Greetings Councillors. Nice to see you again, Shepard."

"Likewise, Major." Shepard said, wearing a big smile.

"Can you give us your findings on your mission in the Kite's Nest system?" Valern asked.

"Yes, I can confirm the batarians are in the throes of a civil war. We're able to ascertain there are two main factions with various sundry weaker factions aligning with one side or another. One faction is led by Balak who requires little introduction. He controls a significant portion of what remains of the Hegemony's military forces. He's also bolstered by support by the Blue Suns. The recent assassination of the Blue Suns' leadership by parties as yet unknown set off a power struggle. The Blue Suns are now under batarian leadership and the Blue Suns have since purged their ranks of any humans. Balak is espousing a blatantly anti-human agenda, one of his most popular supporters is a mad preacher who until recently made his home on Omega. This has enabled him to capture a large portion of the batarian religious castes. He wants to unify what's left of the Hegemony and target humans in the Terminus systems and beyond. He's diverted significant resources into building another orbital mirror system. He's also made statements of extraditing Councillor Shepard to stand trial for various crimes against batarians."

The other Councillors scoffed openly at the suggestion. Cassandra stirred nervously.

"The second main faction is led by Governor Grothan Pazness. He's the most radical. He wants batarians to unite under his banner to rebuild their culture and society, to do away with slavery and their caste system, to be more open to the galaxy as a whole. Despite his radical message, he's attracted the larger number of followers, mostly from the larger, lower-caste batarian populace who are traumatized and tired, eager for new ways. His radical message also alienates him from more powerful and conservative members of the Hegemony. His military forces are negligible at best. Although their outlook would be the most agreeable to the Council, these forces stand the lowest likelihood of emerging victorious."

"Do you have further information regarding the orbital mirror?" Valern asked.

"Not as of yet, Councillor. We know only that it is in construction somewhere. It is a highly guarded secret, few outside Balak's immediate circle are aware of its existence. We will continue to search for leads."

"What's the strategic situation?" Cassandra asked.

"Balak's forces hold three planets outright. Prazness' forces hold two planetary bodies .The bulk of the fighting is taking place on the homeworld of Khar'shan, with many of the largest cities descending into war. We've seen many incidences of urban warfare, improvised weapons, sieges and so forth."

"What about refugees?" Tevos asked.

"A surprisingly low number of refugees, under 10 thousand. This is due to several factors; the devastation caused by the Reapers severely culled the batarian population and the remaining batarians seemed to be strengthened by a common bond forged during the Reaper War. Few are willing to abandon their homes so soon after the Reapers came. Most are willing to fight for their cause, though not without fatalism. Some, especially in Balak's faction, speak of dying off in one final blaze of glory."

"What about derelict Reaper tech?" Cassandra asked.

"Our forces destroyed whatever derelict Reaper ships we came across. We found both factions are trying to use Reaper tech to give themselves an advantage in this war. We know Balak's forces are attempting to recreate the Reapers' beam weapon. So far none have succeeded. "

"The Geth were reactivated by a rogue quarian admiral. Could the same be done with the Reapers?" Sparatus asked.

"Unlikely. The Geth were machines, purely synthetic. The Reapers are bio-mechanical. Their complexity is unfathomable even to the most advanced species." The salarian major answered.

"Do you have an estimate as to the remaining numbers of batarians?" Valern asked.

"I would give an estimate at perhaps 20 million. The bulk of whom survived by virtue of being outside their home system when the Reapers arrived."

The Councillors looked amongst themselves and shook their heads. The hegemony had once claimed Khar'shan was home to 15 billion people. While there was no doubt exaggeration was behind this claim, there was equally no doubting the planet was once host to several billions of lives.

"Thank you, Major." Cassandra said. "Continue with your mission and keep holding the line."

She detected the slightest of nods from the STG officer. "So long as there is a line to hold, it will be held. Thank you. Councillors, Shepard." His image disappeared from the QEC and the lighting returned to normal. Cassandra rubbed her eyes and sighed. They'd been here for four hours and the agenda was nearly finished. Short by Council standards but she was tired, she hadn't slept the night before, nightmares and insomnia gnawed at her legs like a rabid pitbull. Nightmares of Torfan had awakened her the night before.

"This batarian civil war merits our attention." Sparatus began. "Civil wars often spread beyond their borders, engulfing neighboring states and systems."

"Agreed." Valern said. "We should allocate more reconnaissance resources to their sector. Boost defences in neighboring sectors."

"I'm worried about Balak's faction gaining the upper hand." Cassandra said. "I know what he's capable of." She thought back of their encounter on Terra Nova. It had been agonizingly difficult for her to choose to let him go. The sneer on his face as he ran away and she ran to diffuse the bombs still filled her with rage. That moment, though ,had proved how she'd changed. The younger Cassandra would've ignored the hostages and fought the batarians. She remembered with great pride Anderson's face as he read her report of that incident.

"I agree." Valern began. "Were Pazness' faction to win this civil war, it would present the Council with a grand opportunity for a new era in galactic politics, and give us one less threat to worry about. Perhaps the first step in establishing Council presence in the Terminus systems."

Sparatus looked at Valern. "It is too early to begin implementing such moves. We are too fragmented and compromised. In a few decades' time perhaps. We haven't discussed expansion into the Terminus systems in any meaningful detail."

"In a few decades this civil war may be resolved in favour of Balak's forces and the opportunity before us will no longer exist." Valern argued.

"Intervening in a civil war is fraught with peril, it can give rise to thousands of unforeseen consequences." Tevos said. "It is best that we remain on the sidelines observing. When a clear victor has emerged, we can deal with them appropriately. We are still very vulnerable ourselves. If we aid the losing side, the victor will regard the Council with even greater enmity and distrust. If we're seen to have intervened it may negatively affect our public image. Especially if we plan to carry through on our eventual plan to expand into the Terminus systems."

"What do you propose?" Cassandra asked Valern.

"Further reconnaissance and bolstering of our defences bordering batarian space. Further, we should plan a covert outreach mission to Prazness' forces." Valern answered.

"What would this outreach entail?" Tevos asked sharply. "He will be suspicious and I am leery of offering anything beyond moral support."

"I am not proposing any tangible aid. Merely to ascertain his intentions and his disposition towards the Council." Valern said.

"That's a good idea." Cassandra said.

"However, if we have nothing tangible to offer him he will be disinterested, displeased, even." Saparatus said.

"Balak has the Blue Suns. Maybe we can use some of the credits we've confiscated from various criminals and warlords to purchase the services of other mercenaries, Eclipse or Blood Pack even." Cassandra suggested.

"That does have a certain appeal." Valern began. "The use of intermediaries would be necessary to decrease the chances of this being traced to the Council."

"Yes, I would support this so long as the intermediaries cannot be traced to us." Sparatus said. All eyes turned to Councillor Tevos. She looked at the table before her, deep in thought. Cassandra wondered why Tevos had supported Atherton's candidacy. She had no doubt her motive was anything but malign. But what was her true motivation? What was she planning?

"I recommend caution but I see the need for a favorable outcome to this conflict. Very well, let us proceed. This should be assigned to one of our Spectres." She said finally. They finished their meeting by agreeing which Spectre to use, a Turian with years of experience in the Terminus system. They moved onto the last item of their agenda which were various ancillary minutiae regarding the next leg on the Ascension's Victory tour Rannoch, which would also include a ceremony marking the quarians' readmission into the Council. The ceremony was slated to be modest, though the quarian celebration would be less so. The modesty of the ceremony was symbolic message, the same given to the krogan; past crimes are forgiven, but not forgotten.

* * *

"What do you think Tevos was planning with supporting Atherton?" Cassandra asked Stravowsky. They were in her office, sipping coffee. Both were leaning back, resting their feet on her table. It had been a long meeting, and it was only mid-afternoon.

"I don't know." Stravowsky admitted. "I don't have an antenna for all this intrigue and backstabbing. I'm still surprised that every morning I come in here I have to search for bugs and spyware. Give me policy proposals, trade legislation, that I can deal with. The only thing I can tell you is its bad news."

"Was she like this towards you?"

"No," Stravowsky shook her head, "She was cold but still respectful. Actually, wasn't your wife an information broker?"

Cassandra nodded.

"Maybe she still has some old contacts. Maybe they can find out."

"If she's planning something, I have to prepare for it. Keep an eye on Atherton, maybe she'll try to use him against me somehow."

Stravowsky pointed her finger at Cassandra's face, then pointed it to her own nose. Cassandra touched her nose and was surprised to find it marked by blood. She cursed and fumbled for a tissue. She titled her head forward and pinched her nose. After a few minutes the bleeding subsided.

"You okay, Shepard?" Stravowsky asked.

"Thanks doc, I'm fine. It's weird. I haven't gotten space nose in years."

"Happens to everyone," Stravowsky said. "The air's so dry in these ships it's a miracle it doesn't happen more often. It's been a long day, why don't you call it a day?"

"Thanks doc, I'm going to head home now."

Stravowsky raised her eyebrow and smiled. "I hope you're not going to make a habit of going home early."

"Yeah, I was thinking about finally going on a honeymoon. Six months sound fair? Sure you can cover for me while I'm away?" Cassandra teased.

"Only 6 months? You're so considerate." They chuckled.

"See you tomorrow morning, doc."

* * *

Cassandra found Liara in their cabin. She was sitting in her hover chair, learning a new piece on the piano. She looked frazzled and frustrated, slamming her fists on the keys. Cassandra dropped the bag she was carrying, knelt next to her and they kissed another passionately, Cassandra gently stroking Liara's scalp. She was so glad to see her. Seeing her after a long day's work made most of the stress evaporate.

"What's wrong, love?" Cassandra asked.

"This piece I'm trying to learn it's so... difficult. It's not the notes, it's the timing! I've slowed the piece down but I still can't get it right!"

"What are you trying to learn?"

"It's Blue Rondo a la Turk by Dave Brubeck."

Cassandra smiled warmly. "Yeah, I heard those weird time signatures can be hard."

"That doesn't begin to describe it!" Liara exclaimed, still shaking her hands in frustration. "It feels so unnatural, so counter intuitive! It's like walking with three legs!"

"I got something for you." Cassandra said, eager to brighten her wife's mood.

"Do you now?" Liara smiled eagerly.

Cassandra reached for the bag. Reaching in she pulled out a contraption that resembled a small fishing net, roughly two feet wide and three feet in length, with small spherical devices that resembled suction cups.

"What is it?" Liara asked.

"It's from Sirta Foundation. It's a Element Zero Chiropractic Massage Pad."

"Sounds interesting." Liara smiled.

"What you do," Cassandra stood up and walked behind Liara with the tool in hand. "Is you put it in the lining of your hover chair. It uses eezo to generate small mass effect fields that automatically detect points of tension in your spine and then massage them. It's like having a portable masseuse."

She slid the contraption into place. It activated as soon as it was connected to the chair's power supply. The chair began to glow and hum. Liara closed her eyes, a blissful expression appeared on her face, the tension vanished.

"This is so, very nice." Liara purred. "This is even better than the massages you give me."

"I hope you're not thinking of replacing me." Cassandra teased, she hovered behind Liara. She rubbed her shoulders and dropped her head down, looking at Liara upside down. She kissed Liara's forehead.

"If you keep buying me things, I just might love those more than you." Liara teased back.

"Maybe I should return these then, get a refund. I've spent a lot of money on you, missy. Maybe I should stop spoiling you." Cassandra smiled.

Liara laughed softly, almost musically. Cassandra knelt beside her and the two kissed another passionately. Liara cradled Cassandra's face in her hands, biotic flames flared from both of them. Cassandra rested her head on Liara's chest. She pressed her ear against Liara's stomach, listening to the sounds of two heartbeats. Liara stroked Cassandra's soft, black hair.

"I love you." Liara said quietly.

"I love you, too." Cassandra replied.

"What's on your mind?" Liara asked. She could read her like no one else.

"Are you still in touch in Feron?"

"Yes. He sent me some intel just a few days ago." Liara answered.

"They rejected Atherton. It's not surprising, I guess. But Tevos said she'd support his candidacy. I want to know why. I think she may be planning to do something. Maybe she wants to use him against me, somehow."

"I'll ask Feron to look into it. What are you going to do about Atherton?"

"I still want to do something for him. I just don't know what to do."

"You know what I think about this, but I hope you'll think of something soon."

"Yeah, me too."


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

Cassandra walked into her office. It was 6 in the morning in the Stravowsky was already there, watching a vid on her Omni-Tool. Two familiar voices were shouting at another. Stravowsky was watching the vid with a bemused grin.

**"DUCK SEASON!"**

**"RABBIT SEASON!"**

**"DUCK SEASON!"**

**"RABBIT SEASON!"**

"Watching another Bugs Bunny vid, doc?" Cassandra asked.

"No, it's a political debate on C-Span." She replied in all seriousness, pausing the vid to fetch Cassandra a filled mug of warm, invigorating coffee.

"It's hard to tell the difference sometimes." Cassandra sighed.

"Hey, I got an idea last night." She said brightly.

"About what?" Cassandra asked, signalling to her to follow her into her office. Stravowsky sat down in the chair opposite her. They'd been having a lot of chats in here lately. It was their customary habit, even early in the morning when there was no other staffers in the office.

"You know how you were trying to help out Atherton?" Cassandra nodded. She'd spent the past week trying to figure out something and couldn't. "Well, how about you send him on a mission. He's got experience dealing with batarians, maybe he can get the two sides in the civil war on the negotiating table. Negotiating with slavers can't be easy and he pulled that off."

Cassandra mulled it over. Yes, he did have experience negotiating with batarians. The Council was already providing covert support to Grothan Pazness' faction, the first of the Blood Pack and Eclipse reinforcements would arrive any day. Maybe... yes. If she sent him, Balak could hardly accuse him of being her stooge. Even Balak had a pragmatic side, he'd proven that in the docking yard. The batarians needed to rebuild. After all this, maybe they could change, become less insular, hostile. The sooner this civil war ended, the better off the rest of the galaxy was. Realpolitik be damned.

"Okay, you convinced me. I'll message Hackett and see if we can get this started. Thanks, doc."

Stravowsky left her office. Cassandra opened her computer terminal and checked her inbox and her heart skipped a few beats when she saw an email from Garrus. She opened it first.

_Hi Shepard, _

_I hope you haven't forgotten you owe me a drink. I see you on the news vids and you seem to be doing well. Liara's due pretty soon, isn't she? Anyway, I heard the Ascension's visiting Rannoch in the next few days so I managed to get some leave approved. I figure I'd join you and see Rannoch and Tali. It's been a few months since we've seen each other, we still talk but, well, you know. _

_I should be onboard at 1700 hours. See you then. Garrus_

She smiled reading the email. She messaged Liara to let her know Garrus was coming. It was good to hear from him, even better they'd see each other. Since they'd buried Joker they hadn't seen each other very much, if at all. She'd seen Tali a few times when she'd come to the Ascension on ambassadorial business but that was it. Williams had done a few assignments but was now on shore leave. She'd only seen Wrex on news vids. Lt. Traynor was assigned to a cruiser. She was quietly relieved to be away from her, she was extremely smart and capable, but fighting off her advances and obvious attraction had been an unwelcomed distraction during the closing months of the Reaper War. Cortez was piloting a frigate, Vega was neck deep in N7 training. Jack was still teaching, Jacob was back with the Alliance, now a proud father. Some she had no idea where they were like Kasumi, she hadn't seen her since the assassination attempt. She knew she'd never see most of them again.

It saddened her, yet there'd always be a strong bond between all of them. Yet, the bond was of varying strengths. It was strongest with Liara, Tali, Garrus, Wrex and Williams to a lesser extent. She could be open with them in a way she couldn't with people like Jacob or Vega. It wasn't fair to them, but that's how it worked out. They'd been with her since the beginning and that counted for a lot.

She left a vid-message with Hackett. She hoped this would help Atherton and allow her to be seen in a more positive light. She felt optimism as she finished dictating the message. With fresh optimism and fresher coffee she went to work, no longer dreading the two hours she'd spend with the chief departmental head of the cabinet department of periphrastic tautological quintuple contingency planning.

When the meeting was at last concluded she was buzzed. She hadn't felt this light in weeks. She did have a slight headache gnawing at her again. She'd been having them off and on the past few weeks. She simply assumed they were related to stress. Asprin and sleep was usually enough to relieve the pain. Sometimes they lasted more than a day but that wasn't too often. She had vague notions of checking in to see a doctor but there didn't seem to be enough time, she barely had time to go the gym regularly and see the ship's psychiatrist bi-monthly.

They day kept her busy and it passed quicker than had she spent the day watching the clock slowly and inexorably inch forward. She only took a brief pause for lunch at midday and was back to work. It was a surprise to her when her clock flashed 1700 hours. An 11 hour day, pretty average. She said goodbye to Stravowsky and messaged Liara, who was making her way to the docking bay, they'd meet there.

They met in the docking bay without hiding their enthusiasm for seeing another again. They chatted all the way to one of the Ascension's restaurants that served foods for all species. Cassandra would've loved to cook for them but there was no way to make pasta edible for Garrus.

"So, Shepard. You owe me a drink, remember?" Garrus said as they sat down.

"I thought you owed me one." Cassandra shot back.

"Hm, so tell me, how would a wise Councillor solve this conundrum?" Garrus asked.

"Ask for impartial, third party mediation. Liara, what do you think?" Cassandra answered, wearing a huge grin on her face.

"Liara's hardly impartial!" Garrus objected.

"I think you should both buy another a drink!" Liara suggested, enjoying the jovial atmosphere and the reunion with a longtime friend.

"Liara!" Cassandra teased. "You're supposed to be on my side!"

"Oh, so much for impartial arbitration." Garrus scoffed. Liara smiled proudly.

"You're in trouble, missy." Cassandra said, giving Liara a playful glare. Liara smiled back and gave her a quick kiss.

"Am I in trouble now?" Liara asked, feigning innocence.

"I guess not." Cassandra answered. They shared another quick kiss before a waitress arrived and they ordered their drinks.

"So, Shepard, how's Council life treating you?" Garrus asked once the waitress left.

"Good, I guess. It's long hours, stressful and dealing with some of the biggest scum in the galaxy..."

"Just like fighting the Reapers then?" Garrus interrupted.

"Yeah, Garrus," Cassandra began. "Except for not being shot at by monstrous abominations, the galaxy being at risk of extinction and I'm not saving your ass from mercs, yeah, being a Councillor is just like fighting the Reapers."

They shared a good laugh. "I never needed saving from mercs!" Garrus objected.

"Except on Omega." Liara interjected.

"Well, on Omega I could've left anytime, really. But I wanted Shepard to believe she saved me from distress. You know, build up her confidence a bit."

"Keep telling yourself that, Garrus." Cassandra shot back as the waitress arrived with their drinks. Liara was drinking water, alcohol and pregnancy didn't mix. Casssandra was imbibing red wine and Garrus was having turian ale.

"Seriously, though, how do you like being a Councillor?" Garrus asked. Cassandra wondered where Garrus was heading with this line of questioning.

"I like it." Cassandra admitted. "I'm following through on the work I did before. It's similar too, doing favours, calling in favours, twisting a few arms. Only I'm using a pen instead of an assault rifle."

"Don't you ever want to retire someplace tropical?" Garrus asked.

"Yeah, sometimes it's real tempting. I mean, Liara and I are married but we haven't had a honeymoon, haven't had a bonding ceremony. I figure I'll do this for a few more years, and retire on Elyssia. Maybe write a few books, be a mom, live in peace." Liara squeezed her hand.

"You don't miss being a soldier?" Garrus asked.

"No." Cassandra admitted. "I've had enough of that life. I'm glad the war ended when it did, not just because of the people we saved but... I don't think I could've last much longer. Another week maybe. It's thanks to friends like you that I lasted as long as I did. What's on your mind?" She asked the last question quickly, eager to avoid the subject. Talking, thinking about how close she was to breaking down in those final days always brought tears to her eyes. Hiding and burying her emotions was something that had been second nature to her. But since her reawakening, it was much harder to too and she didn't know why.

"Well," Garrus sighed. "I've been working with the Hierarchy, security, rebuilding, smashing antique stores, the fun stuff. Anyway, I've gotten feelers from the Primarch about being promoted. It would put me in the third tier in the hierarchy."

"Congrats Garrus!" Cassandra said enthusiastically.

"You've earned it." Liara said quietly.

"What is it?" Cassandra asked. She could tell something was bothering Garrus, he was looking away, his shoulders shifting.

"Well, I'm not sure I'm ready."

"You're ready." Liara said.

"Why?" Cassandra asked, almost shocked that he would have doubts about being promoted, about his competence for command.

"Well I... keep thinking about how I nearly became a Spectre. I wonder if roaming the galaxy catching scoundrels is right for me. I just, don't see myself sitting behind a desk most of the time."

"There's got to be more to it than that." Cassandra said.

"Well, you're right." Garrus sighed. "If I accept the promotion, odds are I'll be on Palaven most of the time. Which means I'll hardly ever see Tali."

"What makes you say that?" Liara asked. Cassandra's eyes welled with sympathy for her longtime friend.

"Well, she's going to be the ambassador to the Council isn't she? Spending all the time on the Citadel, she won't have time for us to see another. So, I'm joining you to say goodbye."

"Garrus, I think that's a really bad idea." Cassandra said, a mischievous grin appearing on her face. She could seed Liara trying to decipher what she was up to.

"Tali's pretty handy with a shotgun. I don't think she'll take too kindly to breaking up. Don't you think, Liara?"

"Yes, I agree. At the very least she'll pump you full of tungsten rounds." Liara added, catching on quickly.

"I don't think the Primarch will be too happy to see one his prize generals done in by a spurned ex-girlfriend. Think of your obituary: Garrus Vakarian, aka Archangel, defeated the Reapers but got killed by an angry girlfriend." Cassandra added

Garrus laughed and when Cassandra resumed speaking it was with greater seriousness.

"What makes you think Tali can't be ambassador to Palaven instead?"

"She's already been assigned to the new Citadel. You know that."

"Who says she can't be reassigned?" Cassandra asked.

"What do you mean?"

"She's got a lot of influence. And so do I." Cassandra said, winking at her friend. "Have you talked to her about this?"

"No, I haven't." Garrus said. "I was... going to tell her in person. Now, I just got a brilliant idea that she should ask to be reassigned to Palaven. Where do I get these brilliant ideas?"

"I don't know, do you, love?" Cassandra asked her bondmate and wife.

"No idea." Liara avowed.

They sat and ate for a few hours, laughing and talking pleasantly. Not only was it just like old times, it was better than old times. There was no undercurrent of fear or dread. There was joy, hope, optimism. Rebuilding would take time, but with the Reapers gone, time was aplenty.

* * *

A few hours later Liara and Cassandra retreated back to their apartment. Both were in a jubilant mood, Liara due to spending a nice evening with a great friend and Cassandra due to the latter and several glasses of wine. Cassandra helped Liara out of her hoverchair and into bed. They changed into their pyjamas. Cassandra was ready to go to bed when her com link buzzed. She opened it and saw Admiral Hackett's familiar, grizzled face in front of her.

"How are you, Councillor?"

"I'm good, Admiral."

"Glad to hear it. I have some good news and bad news for you. The good news is the Navy's going to announce tomorrow that henceforth all frigates shall be based on the Normandy's design and frigates will be referred to as Normandy-class."

Cassandra shrugged. It was an obvious move and one that stirred some ambivalence. The true Normandy was dead, no matter how they tried to resurrect it. But they were keeping the memory alive, that counted for something.

"What's the bad news?"

"I received your request about Atherton. I think it's a good idea but he's gone AWOL. Hasn't been seen or heard from since he left the Ascension a week ago. We have no leads on where he might be. I don't have resources to look for one AWOL officer. If I find anything I'll let you know. Hackett out."

Cassandra looked down at the floor. She felt a sense of foreboding at this news. Atherton wasn't the type to go AWOL on a bender, that wasn't one of his faults. Something, or someone, sinister was behind this disappearance.

"It seems we have a mystery on our hands." Liara said.

"Ready to be my Dr. Watson?" Cassandra asked.

"Doctor who?" Liara asked, bewildered.

"Never mind. Let's see if we can trace his movements." She sat at her desk, across from the bed. Liara crawled out of bed and into her hoverchair. She came next to her. Her face wore a smile, her eyes betrayed an eagerness to work.

"I think I have more experience at hacking high security protocols than you." Liara said cheekily.

"Don't brag or anything." Cassandra teased.

Cassandra yielded control of her computer terminal. She watched, wioth some bemusement, as Liara hacked the Ascension's internal video feed. She hacked effortlessly, like it was second nature. Images blurred by as Liara searched the ship's internal security feeds. If she didn't know better, she'd guessed that Liara had resumed her work as an intel broker. Cassandra started massaging Liara's shoulders. Her muscles were a bit strained but otherwise felt rather loose. Liara moaned quietly though she continued to work.

"I never got to ask you, how was your day?" Cassandra asked her.

"It was quiet. I met father over lunch. I practiced Blue Rondo a la Turk for an hour but got frustrated. I wrote two more chapters in my book about Protheans."

"You mean the adventures of Prothy the Prothean?"

"Very funny. Just a few more chapters to go. My publisher's very excited and can't wait for it to be finished. He gave me an idea for my next book. But I want to check with you first."

"Sure. What will it be about?"

"You." Liara stopped working on the computer terminal and slowly turned to face her.

"A biography?"

"Yes, a chance for you to tell the truth before you get silenced by lies and myths. A chance also to... come to terms with what you did in the past."

Cassandra stopped massaging Liara's shoulders, lost in thought. A chance to set the record straight. Already myths were widespread, a cult called the Followers of The Shepard had sprung, attracting hundreds of thousands of followers. Vids with crazy theories were already abundant, the one about her being indoctrinated was the tip of the iceberg. And who better to write it than Liara, who knew everything about her and wouldn't be shy about bringing the warts to light.

"Yeah, I'd like that." She said quietly.

"I thought so." Liara said. Her computer terminal beeped. The search program displayed it's results. Several video screens displayed Atherton's progress the day when he'd come aboard the Ascension. It followed his progress from arriving on a shuttle to his first stop, the Alliance's office where they'd had their confrontation. After their meeting he'd gone to the gym, his guest quarters, the mess hall. He remained on board for two days before leaving on a standard military shuttle. The video footage offered nothing further.

"That's all I could find right now." Liara said with some disappointment. "I'll message Feron and ask him to look into this. He may be able to find something."

"Tell him to look into Tevos, too. " Cassandra said. "I got a feeling she's linked to this, somehow."

Cassandra lay in bed next to Liara. She was unable to sleep, she tossed and turned restlessly. Her mind racked by questions and anxieties. Tevos. Atherton. The batarian civil war. Liara. Their future family. The clock on the wall crawled with agonizing sloth forward, at times seeming to go backwards. After a few sleepless hours, Liara reached for her. Cassandra embraced her and with Liara's arms around her, she was finally able to fall asleep.

* * *

Retcon alert: I've changed the leader of one of the factions from Charn to Gov. Pazness. It makes more sense. I'd totally forgotten about Pazness. Not difficult to do since he's one of those meaningless war assets you fetch in ME3. I hope you'll all forgive me for the minor retcon :) Thanks to everyone for reading.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

* * *

Rannoch was much as she remembered it, dry, sunny and hot. The sun was beating down on them, she was fighting a losing battle against the human function of sweating. The robes were ill-suited to long hours in Rannoch's arid climate. From the shuttle she'd seen some vegetation and many miles of farmland. Cities were slowly being re-inhabited, much of the geth had been recycled into everything from farming equipment to new Omni-Tools. It was an ill-fitting end, but at least in death they were helping the quarians. It's what they wanted despite not knowing how to do it, not knowing how to overturn three centuries of hatred and distrust.

She'd sacrificed the geth to save all organic life. It was the best of the options presented her by the Catalyst. It was a tragic sign of the times that committing genocide was the better option. She wished she could've saved them but she saw no way. What made it worse was how few were acknowledging the terrible choice she'd made. There was the odd commentator who criticized her, most were academia, and most tended to be shouted down. No one was mourning the geth. She'd received an email from a lower quarian admiral _thanking_ her for getting rid of the geth and that achieving peace between the two, and then betraying them when their usefulness had passed, had been a brilliant tactical masterstroke.

She was standing with the other councillors. Behind her was the valley where she'd killed the Reaper. A deep crater lay where the quarian fleet had blasted it. The Reaper corpse had been destroyed, it had been the Council's first issued order after the war that all Reaper ships were to be destroyed. Most of the Reaper ships had been accounted for, but even one escaping destruction was one too many. She had no doubt shadowy nefarious individuals or even groups were using them for experiments, like Balak's batarian faction. She hoped their research came to naught.

Just to her left was the statue the quarians had built in her honour. Made of bronze it was a full three feet taller than she was, staring defiantly at the crater below, the actual targeting reticule she'd used was in the arms of the cold statue. There was an interactive panel at the base of the statue which educated on most of what she'd done for the quarians. The peace she'd achieved was given a few short sentences. Acknowledged at all is if in spite for some imaginary transgression.

"...And so, do you, Admiral Ra'an." Valern droned. "On behalf of all quarians, do you accept the terms and provisions of the quarian-citadel treaty and by so doing accept readmission to the council of races?"

"I do so accept." Ra'an said, her rich voice resonating with pride. Ra'an was flanked by the other senior admirals, Gerrel and Korris. She made sure earlier to fix Gerrel with a stare, seeing him squirm uncomfortably was a small reward. A little light schadenfreude here and there was never a bad thing. Tali was in the lower ranks of the entourage, she was happy to see her, and happier still that she and Garrus were becoming a more serious item. She wished they had more time to hang out together.

When the ceremony ended the other councillors retreated to the shuttle. Cassandra wanted to remain behind, to loiter and chat, but there wasn't time. The Ascension had time for one more planetary flyby before heading for the next jump gate and next stop on the galactic victory tour, the Arcturus Stream, culminating with arrival on Earth and the slowly rebuilding Citadel where they would resume residence and office, surrounded by power shortages, the percussive drone of construction noise and obtrusive construction drones for years to come.

After boarding the Ascension she went to her apartment. The ceremony had taken the bulk of the day and Council business had been postponed. She was glad for the recess. She'd been having nearly constant headaches for a few days now. This morning she'd felt pangs of nausea after breakfast. She was happy to be away from Tevos. It was difficult to look at her, much less work with her, suspecting what she suspected. She acted as cool and professionally as she always did. Carrying on a charade that she knew nothing was difficult and required a lot of concentration. It went without saying Tevos had far more experience at deception than she did.

* * *

Liara was with Aethyta in the apartment. Both were eating leftover chicken pesto rigatoni that she'd cooked the night before, it was one of Liara's favourite dishes. The ingredients had cost her a month's salary but it was worth it. Aethyta was warming up to her cooking too. Liara looked at her with concerned eyes when she arrived, Aethyta was her usual, casual self.

"What's going on, love?" Cassandra asked her wife, preparing herself a plate with the last of the leftovers. She placed the plate in the eezo-wave.

"Feron and I have found something." Liara said.

"I've got some dirt, too. But I'm not bragging or anything." Aethyta said.

"What is it?"

Liara fiddled with her Omni-Tool. "Feron managed to hack into the Councillor's secure communication channel. He found this:"

"This is Councillor Tevos."

"What do you want?" That was Aetherton's voice. His tone was angry.

"I'm sorry that your Spectre candidature was declined. There were other strong candidates."

"Spare me the pleasantries. What do you want? I'm surprised Shepard isn't making this call to rub salt in my wounds."

"That's actually what I wanted to speak to you about. The human and I have had many disagreements of late. I believe she's a nearly insurmountable obstacle in further Citadel progress. You can help remove that obstacle."

There was a long pause. Tevos resumed speaking.

"Should you do as instructed, I will guarantee your Spectre status as well as significant financial incentives."

"If it brings down that cunt, I'll do it for free. Go on."

"There is a batarian civil war in progress. We are providing covert aid to one of the factions. We want you to reach out to the faction led by Balak. We will use the ruse of a peace conference chaired by the Council. Once the conference is in place, we can bring to light Shepard's atrocities. Balak is to demand a public admission of guilt from her as a precondition to peace. I have accessed her psychiatric records and it's clear she desires to atone for her past actions against batarians. She will do this to achieve peace. Once admission of these atrocities is made, Shepard will be charged with war crimes, crimes against sentience and a myriad of other related charges. She will be disgraced and convicted in a court of law."

"From what I've read of Balak he's not the peacemaking type."

"There is a human saying that is relevant here; only Nixon could go to China. By going to the conference Balak would lose little credibility. He has the chance to make himself appear statesman-like. And if Governor Prazness, after signing a peace accord, is befallen by a mysterious accident it would only be another indication of how indiscriminately the universe yields the hammer of tragedy. Publicly you will be acting on your own initiative, privately you will be acting to ensure Shepard's downfall. Balak will be eager to exact revenge on her. The ultimate outcome of the batarian civil war is of tertiary importance."

"What goes around, comes around. I'm in."

"Very good. I am wiring 25,000 credits to your account. This will cover your travel expenses. We should have no further contact until you reach an agreement with Balak."

"This was dated two weeks ago." Liara said quietly. The eezo-waved beeped, indicating the food was ready. Cassandra wasn't hungry anymore. Her legs felt weak, and she collapsed on a nearby chair. She felt violated. She didn't know what was worse, that Tevos was conspiring to bring about her downfall or that she'd hacked into her private psychiatric records.

"Atherton has probably made contact with Balak by now." Liara said quietly. She took both of Cassandra's hands and squeezed them. Cassandra squeezed back.

"What do I do?" Cassandra asked, completely at a loss. Flanking manoeuvres, choke points, firing solutions, these she understood. Espionage, cloak and dagger politics she had no experience, no conception. There was no battlefield for her to visualize, no weapon to hold, no soldiers to command.

"You fight back." Aethyta said firmly.

"No shit, Sherlock!" Cassandra snapped brusquely. She closed her eyes and shook her head, apologizing for her sudden outburst. Why was she like this? Liara gripped her hands even tighter.

"You fight dirt with dirt. That's how." Aethyta said, nonplussed by Cassandra's uncharacteristic eruption.

"How?" Cassandra asked. "I'm new to this."

"Thanks to me you have some dirt to throw around. To get Tevos out, you'll need a dozen matriarchs to raise a motion against her. I just happen to have a dozen matriarchs that owe me favours, I'll talk to them and swing them onto your side. You talk to the other two councillors about this. You'll need to offer them something to swing them onto your side so be ready to pucker up. Then you go to Tevos and offer her an ultimatum, either she resigns or she'll be publicly disbarred. Only one councillor in the history of the Council has ever been expelled. She won't want to be the second."

"Okay, but what's this info you have?" Cassandra asked, the fog beginning to clear.

Aethyta smiled. "A few centuries worth of shady dealings, kickbacks, cover-ups and one matriarch's daughter."

"Okay, I guess I'll get started. But first, I'm hungry." They ate dinner together. The mood was a bit more relaxed, but still tense. The fresh food helped relax and brighten the mood, though only by a few small degrees. But perhaps that was enough. When they finished Cassandra noticed she had another nosebleed. It took a few minutes for the bleeding to subside. When it did Liara insist she see a doctor soon. She acquiesced, though she didn't know when she'd have time to see one.

* * *

She met Sparatus the next morning in his office. His office was as small and plain as her own. HE had a staff of three. The only adornments were paintings of Palaven in better days. A portrait on his desk showed him surrounded by 12 family members.

"Councillor Shepard, please come in." He greeted her respectfully. She sat opposite him, his desk between them. "I believe this is the first time you've visited my humble office."

"Yes, our offices aren't much to brag about these days." Cassandra said.

"Soon we'll relocate to the Citadel. Our offices will be then more befitting our station. Though I feel the rest of the Citadel will take much time to regain its former stature."

"Yeah," Cassandra said. "With the keepers gone, we're having to actually learn about how the Citadel works. It'll take more time but in the end it will be worth it."

"Yes, I agree. The keepers made us complacent. Now, what can I do for you?"

"First of all, we're not having this conversation."

"Of course."

"We need to talk about Councillor Tevos." She said evenly.

"I see." Sparatus said evenly.

"I have evidence that she's conspiring against me."

"A very serious charge. One that would preclude her from holding office. What is this evidence?"

Cassandra activated her Omni-Tool and replayed the message. His eyes glazed over as he listened.

"A councillor conspiring against another is almost unheard of. I am aware that she was closely affected by the Reaper war, but never thought it would affect her judgement. What are you planning to do?"

"I'm going to present her an ultimatum, either she resigns or she'll be publicly disbarred."

"I trust the message you've played is genuine. I do hope there is more to your plan?"

"Yes, I'm having some matriarch's convinced of the necessity of having her resign."

"Very good. Tevos will assume you won't want these revelations made public either. You've saved my life twice. I have what we call a debt of honour towards you. I will support you. Have you given thought to gaining Valern's support?"

"I assume I'll have to make some concessions." Cassandra said. A salarian consortium was looking to invest a majority stake in the Alliance's largest eezo mining company, BEZ. Despite all the brotherly talk and the recent war, the Alliance was still skeptical of alien ownership of its biggest companies. It was something she wasn't supposed to be involved with, but one word from her would get the deal approved.

"Yes. Valern will be most reluctant to support you. It will require far more than political or economic concessions. He does not believe in favours."

"What do I need then?"

"I understand your wife was an information broker? Ask her to look into Fabrisa Holdings."

"Thank you."

Sparatus nodded. "You're welcome. You must be very subtle about this. Tell no one about what you're planning. And do not confront Tevos until you have Valern onside and a significant number of matriarchs onside. She is both fearsome and cunning."

* * *

After leaving Sparatus' office she went to the medical bay. She'd finally kept a doctor's appointment. Liara needling her was usually enough to give her an extra push to do something she'd rather not. That was another reason among countless why she loved her so completely. While waiting in the reception she messaged Liara to look into Fabrisa Holdings.

A nurse signalled her to an examination room. She waited a few minutes before a doctor arrived. The doctor was asari, very businesslike and cold, like most doctors she'd known. She comported herself like a worker on an assembly line, eyes down, motions robotic, voice monotonous, someone for whom the only way to escape mind numbing banality was to succumb to it. Cassandra lay back on the examination table as the doctor scanned her. The doctor's face was unreadable, she said nothing while pouring over readings. When she spoke, she resembled a drill sergeant more than a doctor.

"You have recurrent incidences of space nose?"

"Yes."

"You drink between 1-2 litres of water per day?"

"Yes."

"Elevated levels of stress?"

"Of course."

"Difficulties sleeping."

"Yes."

"Recurring migraines?"

"Yes."

"Bouts of nausea?"

"Occasionally."

"Irritability?"

"Yes."

"Has your psychiatrist changed your prescriptions?"

"Yes. I'm taking an extra 30 mg of the anti-depressant."

"Are you taking sleep aids?"

"No. They all have negative side effects."

"That is wise. The scanners detect some abnormal physiological readings, they may be due elevated stress levels and moderate sleep deprivation. Your cybernetic implants are unique and I don't know what their readings are telling me. You may want to check in with the manufacturer to obtain better analysis. I can only recommend increased sleep. I'm sending you an e-brochure with tips on stress reduction."

With that, the doctor left the examination room, leaving her alone and frustrated. _Well, that was worth it. _Surely she deserved better. She was a patient, not just another contraption on an assembly line needing a few more rivets here and there. It was useless to ask for another doctor, they were all the same. Just a few dozen doctors to cater for a crew of thousands. Perhaps it wasn't totally their fault. The distance doctors took from their patients was little different than the distance commanders took from their soldiers.

* * *

She went to her office and messaged Miranda Lawson. She was surprised to find Miranda available. She appeared on her video screen, Miranda still largely unchanged.

"Shepard? This is unexpected. How are you doing?"

"I'm doing... okay, I guess. Look, I'm having some minor medical issues and the doctors can't seem to find anything wrong. Would we be able to meet sometime soon? It may have something to do with the cybernetics."

Miranda's eyebrows twitched suddenly and she blinked quickly. Her eyes looked away from the screen briefly. There was something odd about that.

"Of course. When's convenient?" Her voice had a minor undercurrent of urgency.

"We're journeying to earth at the end of next week to move onto the Citadel. We can meet then."

"Sounds good. I'll clear my schedule for you. It's good to see you again, Shepard.

"I'm happy that you're doing well. I'll See you soon, Miranda. And thanks."

"You're welcome."

* * *

The rest of the day was uneventful but still fulfilling. She made a donation of 50,000 credits to a charity helping survivors deal with PTSD and on a whim, unasked for, became an official spokesperson for the charity. Technology changes but people don't. Decades after its acceptance, many still lingered in denial and shame. Her doing this would convince those needing help but afraid to seek it would gain courage, so she hoped. She also signed off on an Alliance free trade deal between the planets in the Sol and Arcturus systems. It was hoped this would boost trade and boost the speed of reconstruction. For once she finished work at a reasonable time.

She found Liara in their apartment, playing the keyboard. She was getting better a Blue Rondo, she was getting the time signature. Now she just needed to get the tempo right. Liara smiled brightly when she came in. Cassandra knelt down and they greeted another with a deep kiss.

"How was your day, love?" Cassandra asked.

"Quiet. I went for a stroll, had lunch with father, and spent the afternoon here, practicing the piano and doing the research you asked me."

"How are you feeling?" Cassandra asked. She could tell something was a little off about her today.

"Honestly, I'm beginning to tire of being pregnant. Being confined to this hoverchair is frustrating. In school we're told philosophically that a 12 month pregnancy isn't that long compared to some other species and our long life span. Philosophically it's one thing, it seems simple and almost trite. But experiencing it firsthand is quite something else."

"Can I get you anything?" Cassandra asked.

"A time machine to fast forward four weeks from now?"

"I'll ask Alliance R&D to make it a priority." Cassandra teased. Liara chuckled and they kissed another again.

"I'm also worried about you. Not just this situation with Tevos and Atherton but your health. What did the doctor say?"

Cassandra sighed bitterly. "Not much, I should try to get more sleep and decrease my stress level. Like I needed a doctor to tell me that!"

Cassandra calmed herself, seeing the effect her outburst had on her wife. "She did suggest it might have something to do with my implants. So I talked with Miranda and she's going to examine me next week when we're on the Citadel."

"Just so long as she doesn't examine you in the same way that I do." Liara said, a big grin on her face.

"Oh don't worry. You've been granted special access." Cassandra replied.

"I'm special am I?" Liara teased. Cassandra kissed her.

"Very special."

"Well, maybe you should make me feel that way."

Cassandra led Liara to the bed where she made love to her. Liara was restricted by her pregnancy in what she could do physically. But Cassandra could still please her, their minds could still join, which was where the true pleasure, the true intimacy lay. When they were done they cuddled together, holding and kissing another, basking in the blissful afterglow of their love.

"I'm looking forward to moving to the Citadel. At the very least our apartment will be bigger." Liara said wistfully.

"Yes. We'll have a bedroom for Aisha, room for a proper piano, a real kitchen. Even though we'll be surrounded by construction, it'll be a big improvement on this."

"Judging by the vids, it'll make my apartment on Illium seem modest. Oh, Goddess. I nearly forgot. I found some interesting information."

"Don't worry, I could get used to distractions like that." Cassandra teased.

"I'll email you the details. On the surface Fabrisa Holdings is just another financial equity firm. In reality it's a front for a money laundering operation for various warlords, criminals, mercenaries and so forth. Valern is one of the directors to give it an air of legitimacy. It's one of the most profitable companies in the galaxy."

"So I threaten to make this public if he won't go along."

"You're learning quickly." Liara complemented.

"Praise from the former Shadow Broker is high praise indeed."

Cassandra saw Liara's sad expression. "I'm sorry, love. I didn't mean to..."

"It's okay, Cass." Liara said. Cassandra could tell she meant it. "It's in the past. I'm glad you talked me into retiring. Power is a magnet to the corruptible and it was difficult to resist the urge to use it nefariously. It would've been so easy."

"But you did. That's what matters." Cassandra said.

"As time went on though, I found the urge stronger. My resolve weakened" Liara was quiet for a time.

"So what happened?" Cassandra asked.

"The Reapers came. The war ended. I found myself caring for you. I didn't have much time to do anything else."

"Thank you." Cassandra said and gave Liara a deep kiss. It felt ridiculous to thank Liara for caring for her. It was such an inadequate word and Liara knew who much that meant to her. But she had to say something. She remembered hearing the music, blackness slowly dissolving to light, drowsily coming to life, opening her eyes and seeing Liara just a few feet away. It was the single happiest moment of her life.

Liara put her arms around her. "I love you too." Liara said quietly. They held another and gently drifted off to a full night's peaceful sleep.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

* * *

Cassandra groaned when the alarm went off. Her arm fumbled and misaimed for several seconds before finding the right button and shutting it off. It was 4 AM. Only 90 minutes earlier that she normally woke. _Only 90 minutes_. Liara moaned next to her.

"I'm sorry, love." She whispered and kissed Liara's cheek.

"Good luck." Liara said, half alseep. And just as quickly she fell back asleep.

Reluctantly she ambled out of bed. Her shower did little to wake her up. In her soldiering days, waking up at 4 AM in a comfortable bed was a luxury to be treasured. She changed into civilian clothes, she wore gym pants and a hoodie sweatshirt. She put the hoodie over her head to conceal her face. She left her cabin and broke out in a jog. The hallways were largely empty and it didn't seem anyone was following her. She jogged down various hallways, heading towards the nearest elevator. The elevator was empty.

She had to take two other elevators before she found herself in Cargo Hold Zulu. She activated her Omni-Tool to scramble the internal security devices. She ceased her charade of being out for a morning jog by removing her hoodie. It made her feel like a gang member. The hold was half filled with various crates, most with varying degrees of rust, a deactivated power loader mech was resting by the opposite wall. It was dry but grimy, the smell of lubricating oil heavy in the air. Distantly she heard an elevator door open. She turned around and a few moments later saw a disguised salarian walking towards her.

"Thank you for coming." Cassandra said quietly.

"Your message said it was urgent we meet in such a way. What is it you want?" The robed salarian asked. Direct and to the point.

"We need to talk about Tevos. She's conspiring against me."

"A very serious charge. Do you have proof?"

"Yes." Cassandra played the message.

"Most serious but I fail to see how this concerns me."

"You will convince Tevos that it is time for her to resign or risk the humiliation of being expelled."

"This is most alarming but I will do no such thing. The Council must appear united, any signs of instability or uncertainty may have crippling repercussions." The salarian said.

"What do you think would cause more instability? A councillor retiring for health reasons or one being charged with war crimes? So, yes, you will do this." Cassandra said forcefully. "Otherwise your dealings with Fabrisa Holdings will be made public. You and a dozen other prominent political figures of every council race will be publicly disgraced and forced to resign."

The salarian said nothing for a time. "Very well. I will reluctantly support you in this. But if the galactic economy stumbles of the Council suffers some setback in the future as a result of this, know I will hold you responsible."

"Tevos is the one responsible. In our session two days from now I will bring forth a motion. You will support me."

"Very well, Shepard." Valern said. He turned around as if to leave, then stopped in his tracks. "You're a quick learner at this game, Shepard. You'll do well." She didn't know whether to be offended or flattered.

* * *

She went back to their apartment and slid into bed and slept lightly before rising again for her regular work day. She noticed a dull throbbing behind her temple, she felt drowsier than normal, and the coffee she made for herself before leaving the cabin did little to wake her up. She grabbed a second cup from the office when she arrived, Stravowsky was there as usual. She nodded to her and she followed Cassandra into her office. They sat down opposite another. Cassandra searched in her desk and found a bottle of headache pills. She poured herself several pills and swallowed them dry. The bottle was nearly empty.

"What's up?" Stravowsky asked.

"There's something going on you should know about. This is top secret. Tell no one."

"Not even my hubbie?" She asked with a grin.

"You could but then you'd have to kill him."

"I can't do that. Who'd clean our apartment then?" She answered dryly. Cassandra chuckled briefly but her seriousness returned quickly. She spoke calmly.

"I have proof Tevos is conspiring against me. She's hacked my psychiatric records. She's using Atherton to outreach to Balak and organize a peace conference. He's then going to demand I make a public confession and then Tevos will charge me with war crimes. So, I'm moving against her. I've got Valern and Sparatus' support to force her to resign. Aethyta's getting enough matriarch's onside to force her as well, that should take a couple more days to organize."

Stravowsky said nothing, her eyes betrayed complete shock and surprise.

"I can't believe she'd do that... is doing that... Are you okay?"

Cassandra shrugged. "I'll be okay when this is over. Just a couple more days. I'm more worried about acting normally around her. We have a session today. That won't be fun."

"You sure you can handle it?" Her eyes brimmed with such genuine concern it was truly touching.

"I'll be okay, doc. It helps I have a good #2 by my side." Stravowsky smiled with gratitude and nodded.

"So, what's on the agenda, doc?"

* * *

They convened an hour later. They sat in their usual places, each Councillor with an aide by their side. Tevos was to her left, Valern to her right and Sparatus in front of her.

"Good morning, Shepard." Tevos said with uncharacteristic warmth. "Did you sleep well?"

_I'll sleep well when I never have to see you again, you petty bitch. _"Yes I slept very well, thank you." She replied pleasantly. _Wait a minute. _Was her comment about sleep a jibe relating to her psych record, or to the morning's activities? Had she erred in her plan? Had something, or someone, tipped Tevos off? Tevos' face was as emotionless as always. She'd have an easier time reading ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics than the asari councillor's face.

"Before we begin, I have an important announcement to make." Tevos said. "Through my own initiative, I sent an envoy to Balak in the hopes of bringing about a peaceful end to the batarian civil war. I have just received word that Balak has accepted. It would be best if the Council chaired this peace conference on the Citadel. Perhaps as early as next week."

"It would have been preferable you'd discussed this initiative in council." Valern began. "If Balak discovers we've been covertly aiding his enemy, he will react most negatively. Any hope of obtaining a favorable outcome will be lost."

"Why haven't you discussed this before?" Cassandra asked pointedly.

"I assumed the probability of success was low and thus not worthy of the Council's time." She said, feigning contrition.

"We had not seriously considered the possibility of a peaceful end to this conflict." Sparatus said. "It is most unlike the batarians to do so. Perhaps the Reaper war had affected them more than we'd assumed. I endorse this plan. It will be an auspicious event with which to re-open the Citadel. The steps we've taken to conceal our hand is sufficient to keep Balak and his forces unawares."

"Agreed." Valern said. "Since this is your initiative, you should plan the specifics. Shepard, I believe it would be in everyone's best interests to endorse this."

That was his way of saying she could go along with this, and continue her ruse. "I endorse this. How long will it take to plan the specifics?" Cassandra asked.

"It should take no more than a few days, most of these can be handled by my chargé d'affaires. Thank you for your support, Shepard. My instincts told me you would supportive."

_Your instincts or the psych reports you hacked? I'm going to enjoy watching you burn._ She nodded politely and managed a warm smile in her direction. The meeting went on, following the day's agenda. Cassandra did her best to be engaged in involved, though she couldn't stop worrying that maybe Tevos was aware of what she was up to.

"Shepard? Will you wait for a moment?" Tevos harangued her after the meeting was over. The others were in various states of leaving the room. _Sorry. Too busy planning your downfall._

"What is it?" She made little attempt to hide her exasperation. The meeting had lasted for five hours. She was hungry and her headache hadn't lessened.

"Aren't you curious to know who my envoy was?" The slightest hint of a smile in her voice.

"No." Cassandra replied with disinterest, she gathered the last of her things and left as nonchalantly as she could manage. She didn't want to give Tevos a chance to mention who her envoy was. Cassandra didn't think she'd be able to feign surprise. She noted with satisfaction Tevos' hinted smile vanish from the corners of her mouth.

* * *

Cassandra was happy to meet Aethyta and Liara for dinner at a restaurant. It was a nice break from eating in the cabin. Despite how large the ship was, she was getting stir crazy. Having spent a fair amount of time on spaceships, it wasn't something she was used to feeling. The all-too short respite on Elyssia had affected her more than she knew. She missed it, the waves, the beach, the peace. She wanted so very much to spend more time there, but there was never enough time. A few short weekends had been all they'd managed. There was always business. The reason why she and Liara hadn't had a honeymoon, why they hadn't had a bonding ceremony. Spending her whole life in retreat on Elyssia sounded nice in the abstract, but she needed something to do, something meaningful. This was a demanding job but it was fulfilling, and it was safer than being a soldier. There was still much work to do, much that needed to be fixed. The galaxy needed her still and how could she refuse the call after all she'd done? She thought killing the Reapers would allow her and Liara to live a quiet life together raising family. How wrong she'd been. But she wouldn't do this long. A few more years, just until everyone was on their feet again.

"Good to see ya, Shep." Aethyta greeted her. Cassanda gave Liara a quick kiss and sat down between them. A waiter quickly came over to them and they ordered drinks. She did get quick service here. Being an interstellar VIP has its advantages.

"Is everything sorted?" Cassandra asked.

"This time tomorrow, that bitch is going to get one hell of a nasty surprise. And an even nastier one the next morning!" Aethyta said with relish. "Nobody messes with my girl's girl!"

"I think she might be onto me." Cassandra said.

"Why?" Liara asked, almost jumping out of her hoverchair with concern. Cassandra told her about the meeting.

"I think you're safe, Shep." Aethyta said. "She underestimates you. She was just pushing your buttons. If something had tipped her off I'd have heard about it."

"Are you worried her removal might jeopardize the peace conference? It's already been announced." Liara asked.

"Balak isn't going to the conference for her. He's going for me. I'll be ready for him and Atherton. Which reminds me..." She fiddled with her Omni-Tool as drinks arrived. She gave herself a reminder to contact Major Kirrahee in a few hours. For now, she wanted to relax and enjoy herself.

"So," Cassandra said after sipping from her wine. "What's going to happen once she gets the boot?"

"The assembly matriarchs will hold an election. Whoever they nominate will be confirmed by the Council. That should take a few weeks." Aethyta said matter of factly.

"Any ideas who might replace her?" Cassandra asked.

"It'll be someone friendlier to you." Aethyta said. "I've made sure of that."

"Why not you?" Cassandra asked.

Aethyta choked on her brandy. It took a few moments for her to recover.

"Are you kidding? No, you're not kidding." Aethyta snorted. "I'm too old. I don't want to spend my last decades dealing with political catastrophes... I'd rather spend it with my family." She said the last sentence quietly, her tone completely soft. She rubbed her watery eyes. Cassandra realized how much it had taken for her to say that.

"And we're honoured that you're a part of it." Liara said.

"Thanks, kid." Aethyta said, struggling to retain her demeanor.

"Same here." Cassandra added, truly honoured and happy.

"Look, don't get all mushy on me, okay?" Aethyta said, imbibing her brandy and turning her attention to the menu. The rest of the dinner went well with casual conversation.

* * *

After dinner she went to the communications room. She activated the QEC, inputting a few encryption protocols Liara had given her. His blurred image appeared on the screen in front of her after a few minutes.

"Good to hear from you, Shepard. What can I do for you?" He asked.

"I want an update on the batarian situation."

"Balak's agreed to a peace conference. A general ceasefire has been declared. A few skirmishes have broken out here and there but the ceasefire seems to be holding. It seems Balak will include that preacher in his entourage along with a few bodyguards and lieutenants, including Charn." That was good news. She'd talked him out of supporting Balak once, she could probably do it again.

"What's his strategic situation?"

"The mercs Prazness hired have done wonders. They've captured more ships, space stations and cities than they would've otherwise. With the victories more forces have defected to his side, his popular support's increased even more. I'd say Prazness has the upper hand. Balak will be negotiating from a position of weakness."

"What about the orbital mirror they're working on?"

"I still haven't found it. I've sent out hundreds of recon drones, none of them have found anything. Wherever it is, I don't think it's being built in batarian space. I'm afraid the trail's gone cold."

"What about the Reaper tech they were working on?"

"We found the station where the work was taking place. The station was destroyed along with any trace of what was happening there."

"Good job. One more thing. I'm expecting Balak to try something against me when the peace conference takes place. If you could send an STG team you trust to the Citadel, I'd appreciate it."

"I'll send the 2nd Protection Platoon right away."

"Thanks, Major. Keep holding the line out there."

"Will do, Shepard. Kirahee out." The salarian saluted her before his image faded.

_36 hours. _She told herself. In 36 hours this terrible situation would be largely over. Roughly 24 hours from now Tevos would receive the ultimatum from the assembly of asari matriarchs; either she will resign from the Council or risk the publication of her illegal dealings over the years and open herself to criminal prosecution. Roughly 12 hours after that, she would present Tevos with her ultimatum.

A few days earlier she'd struggled with conceptualizing this. Now she realized it was all too similar to battlefield tactics. Tevos was an entrenched enemy, so she was attacking her from two fronts, outflanking her. Unless Tevos knew what she was up to. She knew Aethyta had tried to reassure her, but the reassurance had the opposite effect. Maybe this was another part of Tevos' ruse. Maybe Tevos had anticipated these moves, and this was part of even greater plan, something she couldn't see. Plots within plots. Traps within traps. Plans within plans.

* * *

_This is it._ Cassandra thought to herself, walking to the Council chambers with Stravowsky at her side. Valern and Sparatus were already there. They nodded to another as she sat down. Tevos was late. Understandably so. They sat tensely together, quietly waiting for the tarry asari councillor to arrive. Stravowsky's legs were trembling, her feet nervously tapping on the floor. Cassandra tapped her shoulder. Stravowsky apologized, and then just as quickly resumed her nervous tapping. She herself was nervous. She'd awoken in a cold sweat at three in the morning. She hadn't been able to get back to sleep, not even cuddling with Liara could calm her down. She'd gone to the gym and worked out for a few hours, that drained most of the tension from her. But as soon as she put her formal wear back on, the tension, the nervousness and headaches returned with a vengeance. Tevos arrived 30 minutes later, appearing haggard, dark circles around her eyes, her shoulder slumped forward, her robes wrinkled.

"I apologize for my tardiness." She said briskly, hurriedly sitting down at her chair. "Urgent matters on Thessia require my attention." All noted her usage of the present tense of the verb.

"Sleep well?" Cassandra asked, unable to resist a light jab

Tevos fixed her with a dark, angry glare. Behind that anger was a tiny bit of worry, suspicion. Cassandra smiled pleasantly, feigning that the comment was meant in anything but good taste. There wasn't any point in keeping the charade much longer.

"Councillor Shepard has an emergency motion that needs to be presented." Sparatus said, nodding towards her.

"It isn't on the agenda that we agreed to in our last meeting!" Tevos objected. "Therefore it should be postponed."

Cassandra grabbed a datapad in front of her. She'd anticipated Tevos would try some procedural gambit to gain time.

"According to rule of procedure 13.2 sub section e, emergency motions may be tabulated after the submission of the agenda should special circumstances arise."

"Which are?" Tevos asked, her voice racked by nervous trembling.

"The knowledge and proof that you're conspiring against me." She said icily, staring hard at the asari before her. A tremor went through Tevos' body.

"That's nonsense!" She objected. Cassandra played the message Feron had intercepted. A look of slowly growing horror appeared on her face, also understanding.

"You've doctored that message!" She parried. Cassandra showed Tevos the authentication.

"You!" She shot, the searing epiphany melting away her cool facade. Her body tensed. "You're behind the matriarchs moving against me."

"Yes." Cassandra said icily. "You're guilty of a dozen conspiracy charges, another dozen relating to breaching intergalactic privacy laws, a trail five centuries long of bribery, cover-ups, influence peddling, corruption, extortion and one matriarch's daughter. You'll be publicly expelled, only the second time it has ever happened in the Council's history. Your name will be dragged through the mud, you'll be prosecuted and convicted in a court of law, spend the rest of your life in custody, your assets and holdings will be confiscated and distributed to various charities. Valern and Sparatus support me. Make no mistake. I will bury you so deeply that the vestiges of your corpse will not be found for another billion years." She softened her voice to deliver the alternative. "Or you can resign, citing health concerns. The choice is yours."

"I advise you to take the easy way out." Sparatus began. "For you to conspire against another Councillor out of some petty, emotional grudge is shameful and conduct unbecoming. You would endanger everything this Council stands for owing to petty emotional disturbances. Even if I did not owe Shepard a debt of honour she would have my support."

"It is best for all concerned for you to resign." Valern added.

Tevos slammed her fist on the table. "You vile creature!" She snapped. "Have you not seen Thessia! Seen sacred relics and icons older than your species' pathetic existence reduced to rubble? Do you know what it's like to bury three generations of your own family? To know your family will die with you? You failed us on Thessia! And you have the gall to accept acclaim for... for... making us your sacrificial lambs. A weak apology may appease your own compromised conscience, but it cannot atone for the evisceration of my people. You have no idea how unbearable it is, to see you standing before me everyday knowing that I'll never see my family again, that millions of my people will never... "

She broke down, burying her head in the palms of her hands. She wept quietly. Tevos' aide sat aback, shocked by what had just happened. Sparatus nodded to her. "Let's adjourn for the day." He said quietly. The turian, salarian and human entourages rose and left. Cassandra was the last to leave. She looked behind her. Tevos was being inadequately consoled by her aide. She felt no sense of accomplishment, no thrill of victory, only sympathy. And her headache had gotten worse.

* * *

_"Anyone on this frequency? This is Lieutenant Kurin. My squad is trapped!"_

_"This is Shepard. Give me your location!"_

_"I repeat: Is anyone on this frequency!"_

_Don't they hear me? _

_"We read you! Give me your location!"_

_Why don't they hear me? _

_"The Lieutenant's down! Our whole zone is collapsing! What happened to Shepard? Did they make it to the temple? I saw them...Wait! I've got a Reaper inbound! Please. Is anybody there? I... Oh Goddess! No!" _

_In the distance a Reaper descended from the sky. Joining it's kin in laying waste to the asari homeworld. It wasn't your typical Reaper destroyer or dreadnaught. It was Harbinger. It flew towards her. She was unable to move, frozen by some unknowable force. She was faintly aware of Jaavik trying to pull her away, of Liara screaming desperately. She wanted to yell in defiance, to fire her gun. But she couldn't move, much less shout words of defiance. _

_**Shepard! You have failed! You struggle vainly against your inevitable destiny. I am the harbinger of your perfection. I am the way. Prepare for ascendancy, your salvation. We are creation through destruction. Your destiny lies not with these inadequate constructions of flesh and bone but with my kin. Once you join us, your mind will be opened to such monumentally edifying vistas of reality and knowledge that you will not comprehend your previous existence. **_

_Harbinger flew towards her and then landed on the steps of the temple. The ground shook violently, as if the ancient creature was summoning an earthquake by his very presence. She felt his pitiless eyes staring down at her. For the first time, face to face with the personification of evil, the avatar of destruction and chaos. _

_**Embrace your transcendental ascendancy. **_

_Cassandra then found her voice. She shouted at the top of her lungs, but her voice sounded like the plaintive mewling of a wounded child. _

_"I'll never surrender to you! I'd rather die than give up!" _

_Harbinger stared at her for a few seconds that seemed to last a year, she could feel his eyes not just seeing her, but through her, into her, dissecting her like a scalpel. He knew everything about her. Her fears, her hopes, her dreams, her nightmares. Her past, her present, future.  
_

_**Nihil Verum Nisi Mors. **_

_Thus Harbinger spake. He activated his beam and instead of shooting her, shot the roof of the temple. She looked above to see dozens of unavoidable slabs of concrete falling towards her. She leapt to her left but it was a futile gesture. She was crushed underneath thousands of pounds of rubble, it felt like she'd fallen, it felt like... _

"Cass! Wake up! Are you okay?"

She screamed and jumped as she opened her eyes. Liara was hovering above her, shaking her shoulders. She looked around, trying to orient herself. No. She wasn't on Thessia. No. She was on the floor of their cabin. Liara was in the bed, leaning over, her insistent arms bringing her to the waking world.

"I'm... here." She managed to say. Liara bent down and kissed her forehead.

"Are you okay?" She asked. Cassandra stood up. Her back ached, a result of falling out of bed. Her knees felt weak and she stumbled into bed. She sat up, facing Liara who struggled to stand up. Despite her dazed state, Cassandra arranged the pillows to better support her back.

"I...I...never had this one before." She said, her voice was empty and drained. She was sweating, her hands were pale. She felt dizzy and lightheaded.

"Tell me about it." Liara caressed her hair. Cassandra lazily touched Liara's legs, trying to ground herself in the real world. She was silent for a time, Liara remained as patiently attentive as ever. When she spoke, it was of the only thing she remembered from the dream. Words in Harbinger's unmistakable voice.

_Nihil verum nisi mors. _


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

* * *

She didn't know what to feel, looking out the window and seeing Jupiter in the distance. Earth and the Citadel were just a few minutes away. The last time she'd seen this was on the Normandy, leading the multi-species collation she'd assembled to lead the desperate fight against the Reapers. She was amazed it had worked at all, it could've just as easily hastened their deaths. It was a year ago, more or less to the day. She didn't know what to expect either. She'd seen vids of the reconstruction efforts but they gave an inadequate picture.

Meetings, reports she'd had since her term as Councillor were filled with details of labour shortages, starvation, economic stagnation, thriving black markets. An economist she'd met told her it was like Europe after the second world war, only on an unimaginably grander scale. The quarians and salarians were helping the most, they'd been the least scarred by the Reaper war, but with every species needing help, resources were thinly spread. Despite the war having been won above earth, it felt like humanity had won a Pyrrhic victory at best. Billions dead, many of their colonies destroyed or abandoned, the armed forces decimated, cities an impenetrable maze of rubble and death.

Earth came into view. The Citadel was on the opposite side and obscured by humanity's cradle. Asari commandos came and escorted the remaining Councillors from the Ascension's viewing bay to the cargo hold. Tevos' chargé d'affaires, Atlyta Neroona, was filling in for her. Tevos' sudden resignation had elicited some alarm and concern due to its suddenness. The stock market had tumbled a few points. Her replacement would take a few weeks to be nominated and many said the asari would suffer without her steady leadership. Others wondered how the peace conference would go with its architect now gone. There were many rumours that her resignation was due to a feud with another councillor. She had Neroona to thank for that rumour becoming public though she suspected that even Neroona knew who truly was to blame for Tevos' extinct family.

She boarded the shuttle with Valern, Neroona and Sparatus and a dozen asari commandos. She was nervous, this would be her largest public appearance since her assassination attempt. A kinetic shield generator was discreetly installed on her back. It was small and thus not very powerful, but it would stop a single bullet, giving her time to find cover. Hopefully it wouldn't be needed._ Nihil verum nisi mors. _

The pilot had to plot a specific course to avoid the countless pieces of space junk and debris orbiting the planet. She stood up and looked out the window as London emerged out of the clouds. The city was largely still charred black. As it flew lower she could make out more details; the Tower and London Bridges were slowly being rebuilt, Big Ben was encapsulated in scaffolding as if it were a cocooned insect. London City Hall was completely levelled, although most agreed this was an improvement. St. Paul's Cathedral was gone as were other landmarks like Buckingham Palace. The rest of the city was a morass of ruble and eviscerated buildings. There were areas where rubble had been cleared, these were the refugee camps packed with tents and pre-fab buildings. Throughout the world there were reports of cholera, dysentery and other outbreaks in these camps. It was hard to predict when things would get better.

There was a clearing ahead, surrounded by throngs of people and various drones. She knew where she was without recognizing it. This was where the conduit had been, where she'd made her mad dash, where she bade farewell to her love, hoping she would live longer than her. The shuttle landed with a light bump. The commandos filed out first. The air was damp and cold, just like the last time she'd been here, though it was bright and sunny, the sound of cheering crowds was a satisfactory replacement to the sounds of battle.

A commando came to the shuttle entrance and nodded to them. She looked to the other Councillors and nodded to them. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins. She never felt so nervous. Giving a speech in front of a dozen troopers was one thing, in front of an assembled crowd of hundreds? Not to mention the countless throngs who'd be watching on the extranet. Valern left the shuttle first. The cheering increased. He paid no heed to anything, he moved beyond her line of sight. Neroona's arrival was more muted but still respectful.

"I think you'll get a better welcome than if you'd came twenty years ago." She told Sparatus.

He nodded. "I for one am glad for that." He remarked dryly.

He received a surprisingly loud and enthusiastic cheer. The cheering ebbed slightly for a moment and then began to build up. Cassandra stood in the shuttle. She felt their anticipation, she felt it herself, though it was tempered by anxious ambivalence. She stood at the threshold and the cheering increased. She looked outside. She saw the other Councillors and a handful of other VIPs, including Admiral Hackett and Alliance Prime Minister Samantha Sutherland, standing at a podium, all were looking in her direction. Hackett nodded to her.

She tapped the battery, ensuring it was still active. The cheer increased again in volume, the anticipation was tangible, something she could reach out and touch. She took another step forward, now at the threshold. The roar of the crowd continued to increase, it felt like the ground was shaking beneath her. She exhaled and saw her breath materialize in front of her. _This is it._ She breathed in deeply and placed her left foot forward. She felt the light of the sun, the touch of the cold wind on her face, and the roar of the crowd became almost deafening, an implacable wall of sound.

_Nihil verum nisi mors. _

She stood just outside the shuttle, not remembering stepping outside. She looked to her left, where the assembled crowds were. There was hundreds of them, held back by security and steel fences. Hovering above were dozens of camera and security drones. Half built buildings had crowds on scaffolding. She stood immobile for a few seconds. then she smiled and wove to them. The crowd's roar increased. The euphoria she experienced was indescribable, she felt lighter and happier. For the first time she was able to receive praise without cringing, without feeling she hadn't merited it. Her past mattered less. For the first time, she believed those who told her she'd more than atoned for her past. She fought a hard battle to restrain her tears.

"Shep-ard! Shep-ard! Shep-ard! Shep-ard!" The crowd chanted. A cathartic exaltation. She walked to the podium continuing to wave to the crowd. She came to the outlier of VIPs and shook hands with all of them.

"It's nice to see you again, Shepard." Admiral Hackett said. She reached out to shake his hand, but instead he snapped to attention and saluted. She reciprocated, much to the delight of the cheering masses. They shook hands then, he still had a grip. Then she shook hands with the Prime Minister.

"It's nice to finally meet you in person." She said as they shook hands. They'd spoken a lot of the course of the past several months. Cassandra didn't realize that the Prime Minister was almost a behemoth, standing tall at 6 and a half feet tall. She looked to the podium where a microphone was. Cassandra sighed.

"Nobody here cares what any of us have to say." The Prime Minister said, almost apologetically. Cassandra nodded. She'd worked with Liara and Stravowsky all week on a speech. It had been difficult to focus. Her staffers had drafted a speech for her. It was bland and soulless. It was the speech she'd be remembered for, few knew about her speeches on the Collector base, or even in this city a year previous. So it would have to be something memorable and meaningful. She approached the podium and the impossibly loud crowd became even louder. She closed her eyes, almost expecting a bullet, or worse, to come calling. _Nihil verum nisi mors. _There was nothing, only the cold wind and the warm crowd.

"It's been a year since all of us beat the Reapers." She began a huge cheer broke out. "And in even better news, Man U won't be winning the Premiership this year!" Even louder cheers interrupted with bouts of hearty laughter. Make a joke to appeal to the locals, Stravowsky had advised. That was the soundest advice she'd received in weeks. The tension drained out of her, she relaxed, not truly seeing the amassed throngs of hundreds in front of her. And so she continued her speech for a dozen minutes; she spoke of the strength of unity, how proud she was of the people she'd served with, that the worst was over, that the future held nothing but promise.

"By defeating the Reapers, we've earned the right to decide our future for ourselves, the world has changed, but it has changed on the only terms acceptable: our own. The road ahead is not easy, but nothing worth achieving is ever easy. Defeating the Reapers means we've earned the right to decide our own destiny. We do that the same way we beat the Reapers: by standing together!"

She stepped away from the podium and waved to the ecstatic crowd, she lost the battle against the tears and they flowed freely down her face, but she wore a wide smile and she scarcely noticed the tears. Lost in their acclaim, she felt free of the weights and sorrows that had weighed her down for so long.

A few short speeches later the ceremony was over. The crowd remained, continuing to cheer and chant. A Mako drove up to they boarded. Cassandra was the last to board and she waved one more time to the enthusiastic throng. She was beset again by a strange ambivalence, remembering how clumsily it handled yet how the vehicle till retained an ineffable charm. She remembered the adolescent joy and thrill of ramming geth colossi and armatures and then blasting them with its cannon. It was strange to be in the passenger compartment, seeing something familiar from an unfamiliar frame.

The Mako drove around for a few minutes before stopping. They filed out, finding themselves before the last stop of their tour before the Citadel, Middlesex Hospital, opened in the mid 18th century and still standing, now home to many wounded veterans of the Reaper war. A few camera drones were floating near the entrance and many reporters. A path had been cleared for them from the Mako to the hospital's entrance. A makeshift fence kept the throng reporters at bay. She spotted Diana Allers and Al-Jilani among them and gave each of them a brief nod. There was no time allotted for press interviews and she was quietly relieved, she cared little for Allers' appearance, it served no purpose other than catering to male gaze, though she did bear a begrudging respect to Al-Jilani. She wasn't afraid of asking tough questions and would stand up for herself.

Upon entry to the hospital she was greeted by Captain Sanderson, the officer in charge of her during her recovery on the Florence Nightingale. She greeted Cassandra with a warm if formal smile and they shook hands. The hospital smelt cleaner than the Nightingale did, though it still had the dry, unappealing antiseptic smell that other hospitals did. Like all hospitals, it bore with it the implicit reminder of death. _Nihil verum nisi mors._

She followed Sanderson as she took the Councillors on a brief tour of the hospital's rehabilitation wing. The tour was supposed to be brief but all of the councillors, even Neroona, spoke with and comforted the people they saw. Cassandra saw many who'd been maimed and were adjusting to eezo-powered artificial limbs. The hospital housed wounded of every race. She spoke with a turian who was acclimatising to his prosthetic arm, a krogan who'd had his hump sheared off by a Ravager and had it restored with cosmetic surgery. It was quiet and sombre, the complete opposite of her speech, yet it wasn't bleak. It was more hopeful now, more hopeful than her impromptu tours of the Nightingale when she was a patient there. All the more because this hospital didn't have a psychiatric ward.

The shuttle took them quickly to the rebuilding Citadel. Looking out the window it was the opposite of the first time she saw the Citadel. It was majestic and wondrous. Now it was surrounded by a long queue of freighters and shuttles ferrying construction materials. The five rings were attached but only one wing was open to habitation. The cityscape was provided by countless legions of construction towers, scaffolding, floating construction drones and other signs it was a work in progress. Only the Presidium and the Tower were truly finished, but even those lacked the customary refinements and adornments . It resembled more an unfinished mechanical monstrosity than the seat of galactic government.

Their shuttle docked in one of the four operational docking bays. They were greeted by a C-Sec detail led by Commander Bailey. He looked five years older than the last she'd seen him on the Citadel. His hair was greyer, his face wore more lines and his jaw seemed tighter. He'd held off the Reapers for as long as he could, saving hundreds of lives in the process, before he too had to evacuate.

"Greetings Excellencies. Welcome back to the Citadel. It's not exactly how I left it but it should do for now." He remarked with customary charm.

They were led from the docking bay, surrounded not by curious onlookers or journalists but by construction workers , covered in grime and sweat, scarcely looking up from their task to look at the VIPs walking by. The security detail led them up to the Tower, using their own secret elevator. They walked out from the elevator onto the podium and looked below. It resembled little the tower from her memory, where she fought Saren and Soverign. The adornments of the courtyard and the tower weren't yet installed, it looked more like a grand empty space than a grand hall where government held court.

Below them was a small crowd of various dignitaries. Some were diplomatic staff and government heads, she saw every species from hanar to volus to elcor, others were here owing to buying tickets that went into the Council's rebuilding fund. Each of the councillors made speeches, Cassandra conceded to reading the speech her staff had written for her. It was dull and featureless, the opposite of the speech she'd given hours earlier. She was tired of speeches and ceremonies. Not just tired of the hullabaloo, but in general. She was tired and hungry and anxious. She was due to meet Miranda as soon as all the ceremonies were over.

* * *

30 minutes later it was all over. She sighed aloud in relief as she disappeared from the podium. A different tension evaporated only to be replaced by another. She was in the elevator with the other Councillors. All were dispersing to attend to their own various business. They would reconvene again in two days' time. The batarian peace conference was a week away.

"I agree, these ceremonies are tedious at best." Sparatus said.

"I look forward to retiring. There is much to prepare for." Valern added, focused on business as usual.

Neroona said nothing, though she too was evidently tired. The elevators opened. A cadre of C-sec officers were awaiting. The Councillors went their separate ways. She wanted to visit her apartment and office, but Miranda's visit had priority. The office and apartment would always be there, she'd be seeing plenty of both soon enough.

"Get me a car." She ordered the senior of her C-Sec guards, a turian sergeant. He was flanked by two others, both humans. The turian nodded and signalled for her to follow. She followed them, they took her to the local C-Sec branch. It was small, holding only a reception area, a small penitentiary area was in the basement. She followed them upstairs was administration. It was busy, dozens of officers at work, mostly coordinating the installation of security equipment. From there she was led into the rooftop garage and went into a patrol car. They drove her to the address Miranda had given her. It was one of the few apartment buildings open, though it was still sparsely populated. In a few months time as more businesses would move here, and more political and diplomatic activity was taking place, these would quickly become occupied.

The security detail followed her into the apartment building. It was unfinished, the smell of fresh paint hung heavily, there were no generic adornments like potted plants, paintings, carpets or even furniture. The security system wasn't fully installed, meaning one could easily enter the building without having a key or being buzzed in, neither were the fire detectors fully installed, the ceilings and walls were lined with holes and protruding wires like craters on the surface of the moon.

She asked them to wait outside room 071851. She knocked on the cold steel door. It was quickly answered by Miranda, wearing a snappy blue business suit and long skirt. Seeing her in something modest was a shock. But her modest dress seemed only to enhance her unnatural attractiveness. She smiled lightly and allowed her inside. The apartment was small and unfurnished except for a table in the centre of the main room, it was equipped with various scanners and readouts and displays. The room had a window which overlooked the neighborhood. The view was far from inspiring, showing the inchoate skyline, marred by ubiquitous incomplete buildings, scaffolding and construction towers.

"Love what you've done with the place." Cassandra remarked with light sarcasm.

"I'm just renting this for our purposes. My job's keeping me rather busy and I don't foresee needing to get an apartment here for the next little while."

"I didn't think they rented these out by the hour." Cassandra said.

"No, I had to rent this for the month." She said.

"Miranda, you didn't have to do that. I'll reimburse you."

"No need." Miranda insisted. She raised her right hand to signal this matter wasn't up for discussion.

"Okay, well, how have you been?"

"I really like my job at Special Projects, it reminds me of working for Cerberus. I get a lot of flak for my past, but when people find out I crewed with you, they turn right around. It's rather amusing. They always want to hear stories. I love to tell them the bit about how we took down those mercs on Illium, and you remember the look on that salarian's face?"

They laughed. That had been rather impressive, she admitted to herself. It was something so outrageous it belonged more in a Blasto movie than real life. It reminded her of a line from a classic movie. _When you have to shoot, shoot, don't talk._

"How's your sister?" She was genuinely curious about Oriana.

"She's doing well. She's starting university. She's got a boyfriend but he's a bit of a rat. Only has a 3.0 GPA, citations for underage drinking, she can do so much better than him." She said angrily. _Damn,_ _how long will it be before I start saying the same about Aisha? _

"She'll find that out for herself soon enough." Cassandra reassured.

"You're right. But I can't help but be protective of her. " Miranda said. There it was. The real Miranda, the sensitive, caring one that was covered by that cold shell. If she would ever allow herself to open up to the right person, she would live a happy life.

"Anyway, enough small talk. Let's get started. Please lay on the table." Miranda waved her hand. Cassandra lay on the examination table. Miranda activated her Omni-Tool and the table buzzed to life. She kept her eyes on Cassandra rather than her instruments as she questioned her.

"So, give me a run through of your physical symptoms." Miranda asked.

"Headaches, nosebleeds, sleep difficulties."

"What about your nutritional and exercise regimens?"

"I work out about 3 times a week on average. I still eat pretty good."

Miranda nodded. "What about your biotics?"

"I don't use them as much. Maybe once a week I exercise them. Not optimal, I know."

Miranda nodded in a disapproving if understanding way. Like a doctor who's used to hearing a patient make excuses for not making an effort, while at the same time recognizing this was a minor matter.

"What about your mental health?"

Cassandra sighed. "I get nightmares every other night, I'm irritable, I get... really emotional sometimes. I'm pretty sure it's the PTSD. I see a shrink every couple of weeks. I don't know if it makes any difference. He just listens to me babble and gives me happy pills."

"It takes time." Miranda said quietly. "I'm sorry, you... you deserve better."

"Yeah, well, we all do." Cassandra sighed.

She watched Miranda as she activated her Omni-Tool and began scanning her, having her warm over the length of her outstretched body. She read her Omnni-Tool and other displays with her cursory thoroughness and concentration.

"My God," Miranda said quietly, looking at the readings on her Omni-Tool. Her posture changed suddenly, her shoulders tensed, her head titled downward.

"What is it?" Cassandra asked anxiously. She sat back up in a blur of motion.

"I'm sorry, Shepard." She began, her voice uncharacteristically nervous. "But your implants have elevated energy output 30 marks above red line; the servos have been over capacity for some time, connections are fraying, the regeneration transistors are-"

"Spare me the technobabble! You sound like someone on Star Blek: Traveller." Cassandra said in frustration, slamming her fist on the cold examination table. It produced a loud, hollow clanging sound and Cassandra noticed that her hand felt strangely numb.

Miranda closed her Omni-Tool and looked away from her. Crossing her arms she sighed and spoke quietly.

"You're dying."


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

* * *

"What?!" Cassandra exclaimed. A thousand thoughts were racing through her mind every second, making focus all but impossible. "I thought you rebuilt me!"

"I did." Miranda said quietly. She too was shaken. "The technology used to bring you back is highly advanced but also flawed. Partway through the development of the Lazarus Project I came to a conclusion; either we could build you for longevity or durability. Not both. The Illusive Man and I both agreed on the latter."

"Huh?"

Miranda sighed. "It's hard to explain. It's the difference between building a machine...like a dishwasher. You can build an expensive one that will last longer, or you can build a cheaper one that won't last as long but can still do the job."

"So I'm just a dishwasher to you!" Cassandra snarled, staring darkly at the former Cerberus agent.

"Of course not!" Miranda shot back. "I wouldn't have spent two years rebuilding a dishwasher."

"Why couldn't you do both?" Cassandra said, suddenly realizing her body was trembling, sweating. Her skin was suddenly pale.

"Time." Miranda said quietly. "If I had a few more years and a couple more billion credits I could've done it. But we had no time. We needed you back before the Reapers arrived. You were remade as well as I could make you."

"But not to last." She remarked bitterly.

"I'm sorry. " Miranda said quietly.

"Can't you just replace the implants?" Cassandra asked, her voice desperate, almost breaking.

"The implants were bespoke, they weren't manufactured on a mass scale."

"What didn't you tell me this before?" Cassandra asked. The table beneath her felt like it wasn't there, like she was levitating somehow.

"I never thought we'd make it this far." Miranda said, there was some hesitation in her voice. She continued to look away from her.

"But we did. It's been a year since the Reapers died off. Why haven't you told me until now?"

Miranda said nothing.

"Answer me!" Cassandra snapped.

"I thought you'd be retiring or doing less stressful work. The implants' durability depends on how much strain they're under. They expended a lot of energy when they regenerated you a second time. Normally they replenish that energy but you've been under so much strain they can't. The drain has reached a terminal point. You seemed to be doing so well when I saw you last. I thought my projections might be wrong."

"Don't bother apologizing Miranda," Cassandra said scornfully, "You're not the first person of authority I've met who lives in denial." She regretted those words as soon as she spoke them. But she was angry, sad, confused, she didn't know what to feel, what to think. Thoughts and emotions were coalescing into a gigantic, incomprehensible maelstrom that tossed her about like a ragged doll.

"I'm sorry." Cassandra said quietly. Miranda turned to face her and Cassandra saw a single tear slide down her perfect face.

"I'll make this up to you." Miranda offered, her voice tentative.

"There's only one way to do that." Cassandra replied, her voice now sedate, flat, dead.

"I know." She said, she tried to sound firm and confident but there was underlying uncertainty in her voice. "Most of the data from Project Lazarus was lost when Wilson betrayed us. But I still have my memories, some of the old contacts and suppliers are still around. I have a staff of fifty of the brightest minds the Alliance has. We'll drop everything and work on you. It won't be starting from scratch."

They were quiet for some time. Neither looking at another, both staring straight ahead.

"I want you to understand I don't want this for me." Cassandra said softly. "This for Liara, for Aisha, for..." At the mention of her wife and unborn daughters, Cassandra erupted into tears. She wept openly, like a child, her body shaking. Miranda slowly walked over to her, confronted by something she didn't quite understand or how to react to. She was unsure if what she wanted to do was the right thing. Her initial instinct was to turn away, as she did from most strong emotions. But Miranda fought her normal instinct, she reached out and tentatively held her. Cassandra's body was cold, Miranda's arms were stiff and awkward around her, but Cassandra held onto her tightly nonetheless.

"I know. I promise you, I'll do everything I can. I brought you back from the dead, I'm sure I can do this." Miranda said, summoning all the bravado she could, and almost managed to make it sound genuine.

"Whatever you need is yours." Cassandra managed to say. She wept for another five minutes before she was able to compose herself. Miranda stood back from her.

"How much time do I have?" Cassandra asked.

"If you keep up your present high stress lifestyle, one year at the most. If you partake in a more relaxed life style, up to 3 years. It took me two years to bring you back from the dead. It'll give me plenty of time. Trust me. I'm just improving on my past work." She tried to sound upbeat, but there was doubt and worry in her voice.

"I still have the peace conference. I have to be there." She insisted.

"You can't. Your body won't handle it. It could drag on for months."

"I have to!"

Miranda looked at her and nodded slightly. "I'll allow you one week. Then you're going on a medical leave of absence. I won't take no for an answer. Any longer you risk shortening your life significantly... We'll need to be in close contact with another for this to work. I'll need to be able to see you on a daily basis, sometimes even on a moment's notice."

"I suppose we can find some room in Elyssia for you and your team." Cassandra said. Her body was still shaking. She pushed herself forward to stand up but Miranda stopped her.

"You're in no shape to walk around, physically or emotionally. I'll... I'll drive you home."

Just then her Omni-Tool buzzed. Liara was calling her. _How could she know? _She needed her but couldn't talk to her now. Cassandra was still weak, shaking. Her body had stopped trembling but every instant was a desperate fight against deluge of tears. She could only think of her family. She couldn't die now. She couldn't leave Liara a barren widower, she couldn't leave without watching Aisha grow up, their other children grow up.

_I'm dying._ She thought. Maybe she said it aloud, she wasn't sure. This wasn't like facing death in combat. In combat you knew the possibility of death, but you were so busy evading it you didn't have time to dwell on it. What you really feared was being maimed and injured. Better a bullet to the head than a mine that shredded your legs to smithereens. But this was different. There would be no quick, sudden, unexpected end for her. She would have to live out her tangibly finite existence, sitting, waiting for it to come to her. Feeling, seeing, hearing, smelling Death's scythe approach ever so closer. Nihil verum nisi mors. Maybe Death was more than a natural state, but an entity with an undeniable will of its own, an unquenchable thirst.

She'd gambled with death so many times, defied it, escaped it so many times, it was natural her luck would run out. It was partly why she so eagerly accepted retirement from the Navy, from being a Spectre. Having done everything to minimize the risks, she assumed she'd done enough to ensure she'd would die of old age. She'd earned that right. Or not. Death's scythe can only be dodged a finite number of times. But it was so wrong, she couldn't die because of faulty implants. It was absurdly anticlimactic. No, she deserved to die of old age in Liara's arms or in a blaze of glory, saving the day one last time.

Miranda held Cassandra's arm and helped her stand up. She was wobbly on her feet and her knees nearly buckled. She put her arm around Miranda and leaned on her, like she was a drunkard. Cassandra walked slowly. Each step was tentative, like she was walking a tightrope over a bottomless chasm. She was breathing heavily. She waved the C-Sec guards away with a frail shake of her head. Gingerly they walked down the hallway, into an elevator. Then out of the elevator into the parking garage. She slid limply into the passenger seat of Miranda's rental car. As Miranda activated the rental car the stereo began playing Monty Python's _Always Look on the Bright Side of Life_. Miranda shut it off immediately but Cassandra recognized it nonetheless. She didn't know whether to cry or laugh. So she did both.

Cassandra opened the door to her apartment. Liara was right there at the entrance, waiting anxiously for her. She weakly nodded to Liara and pointed to the sofa. She closed the door behind her, leaving Miranda outside. She struggled to hold her composure as they moved towards the sofa. Calmly they sat down. Cassandra's composure faded instantly as she embraced her soul mate. Her arms tightened around Liara like a vice, as if by squeezing her she could somehow lengthen her own life. She cried and wept. Liara held her closely, tenderly. Liara said nothing but by holding and stroking her hair Cassandra slowly calmed down. Even as she calmed down Cassandra was silent. She wanted to say something but whenever she tried to speak a gigantic lump in her throat appeared, forbidding all but air from escaping from her mouth.

"I'm... sorry." She managed to whisper after several minutes, her voice hoarse and dry.

Liara tensed.

"The implants...I'm...I'm...dy...dy..." She couldn't say the words. It was a simple word, two syllables. But nothing about the word, it's meaning, was simple. It was paradoxical, simple to understand yet difficult to comprehend the full breadth of it's complexity.

"How long?" Liara asked, her voice trembling.

Cassandra winced, every word took effort. She had to be hopeful, to be strong, she couldn't be a burden, to Liara, to anyone. She couldn't dwell on the negatives. There was hope. Best to get Liara to focus on that.

"Miranda... can fix..." Cassandra trailed off.

"How...long?" Liara punctuated each word with weakened desperation, like she was teetering above an unfathomable abyss, her words a desperate ploy that would decide whether she would plunge or regain herself. For several long, unbearably long seconds Cassandra said nothing. She manage to speak, but her voice was barely above a whisper.

"1 to 3 years."

For a moment Liara didn't react, for a moment Cassandra believed that Liara was absorbing the bad news with strength, and philosophical distance. Every asari approached death philosophically, Liara told her years ago. For a moment she believed that. And then Liara's calm demeanour dissolved, like a fresh coat of paint in a deluge of rain. There was no consolation, only commiseration. The bondmates were one, united in grief and sorrow. Neither slept.

* * *

The apartment was still rather Spartan. The room was pallid white, walls, carpets, ceiling, an almost oppressive monochromatic assault. It seemed extremely bright, even though the lights were off and the only light was being filtered by the venetian blinds. A few small side tables were scattered around the apartment, some had potted plants, white flowers in black flower pots. The soil looked dry and in need of watering. A painting on the opposite wall showed a sun setting on Thessia.

It was past seven when Cassandra's Omni-Tool buzzed. She ignored it. Liara was sitting on the sofa. She was standing away from her, looking out the window of their apartment which looked down onto the Presidium. Liara was looking at her through tearstained eyes, her silhouette outlined against the window. They hadn't said anything for an hour or so.

Her Omni-Tool buzzed again. It was Stravowsky. She dropped her arm and ignored it as it continued to buzz.

"You better answer it." Liara said coldly, her voice parched and quiet.

She answered using audio-only. She didn't know what she looked like, but it couldn't be pretty. "Yeah?" Her throat was dry and she spoke hoarsely.

"What's going on? Why aren't you in?" Stravowsky asked.

"I'm..." Cassandra paused, she'd thought it over the past hour and still hadn't decided how to answer the question she knew would be asked of her. "Can't come in today... I'll... call you later. Bye." She quickly shut off her communicator, eager to avoid contact with anyone.

"You didn't tell her." Liara said. Her voice was devoid of emotion. The previous night had wrought it out of her.

"Don't know how." She answered.

"You haven't changed your mind?" Liara's tone was hurt, angry. It made Cassandra feel worse. They'd never had serious arguments before. Liara had never been cold with her before, angry. _And now of all times?_ She didn't want... need this. She slowly shook her head. Liara sighed angrily.

"The conference is a sham and you know it!"

"I can save it." She quietly insisted.

"But the strain you'll put yourself under...it's not worth it! Every day is precious."

"I'll do what Miranda says. A week. Then I'll go... home."

"Is that man's forgiveness really worth it?" She asked her pointedly.

She thought it over before answering.

"Yes. I can reason with him." She insisted. If she could do one more thing. _Then I can go. Relax... wait for Miranda to finish her work, or for Death. _

Liara sighed in despair. "He hates you. Hatred and reason are antithetical. One repels the other... Let's go home to Elyssia." She added, pleading.

"I need to do this!" She insisted.

"No you don't!" Liara screamed, her eyes raining tears, slamming her hands on the sofa. Her voice was breaking. "You've saved the galaxy! What difference does the opinion of one reprobate make?!"

"It's only one week! I promise, Liara. Not one hour longer " She said again, her voice straining to sound firm.

"You're not hearing me!" Liara shouted. "Every day is precious. We need to do everything to extend your time so Miranda can do her work!"

"You know me. You know I can't walk away like that."

Liara shook her head. "For once will you forget your sense of duty?! You owe nothing to anyone! You've earned the right to be a little selfish. No one will hold it against you."

"I can't!" Cassandra yelled. "My whole life is duty! I can't just toss it away! Not after everything we've been through!"

"You have to!" Liara yelled back, her voice shrill. The strain in her voice was tangible. "I abandoned my life as shadow broker, as archaeologist for you! I'm a... I'm a housewife! All I do is carry your babies and play the piano and publish articles! You owe it yourself! To me! To us! To our fam..."

She trailed off. There was a ponderous, heavy silence between them that hung in the air, a pendulum swinging from one to the other. Liara stood up weakly, leaning over to prevent strain on her back and settled into her hover chair. She looked at Cassandra one last time, her intoxicating blue eyes looking upon her with a forlorn expression, then her head snapped away, as if she were afraid of what she was seeing. The door closed behind her with nary a sound, a light tap, but it sounded like the trumpets of Jericho were bellowing inside her and reverberating endlessly. She stood immobile, staring at the doorway, waiting for it to open again. It did not. She walked to the sofa where Liara had sat and sat herself down where Liara had just been. The sofa was cold and lifeless.


End file.
